


Paradox Prince

by caballero78



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alas it's true, Alpha Harry, Alpha Harry Styles, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - High School, Bottom Louis, But underage sexual tension, Dark Harry, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Heavy Angst, Human Louis, I don't like that tag, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Innocent Louis, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Multi, No Underage Sex, Pining, Possessive Behavior, Possessive Harry, Protective Harry, Time Skips, Top Harry, Violence, a/b/o dynamics, if that's a thing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-20
Updated: 2017-11-10
Packaged: 2018-11-16 17:19:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 21
Words: 148,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11257383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caballero78/pseuds/caballero78
Summary: Harry's been hiding a secret since his Alpha presenting three years ago, age 16. Something that's been a dull weight in his human heart and an untameable anger in his wolf's. He's not a regular Alpha, his family being akin to royalty among their kind and as the heir to his Father's reign of several packs, it comes with heavy responsibility, formidable power and strict moral grounding. It also requires stability and natural prowess.He has one of the two. The other, is fated to be brought crashing by a celestial human soul and two of the bluest eyes he was warned about three years ago.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The beginning few chapters is set when Harry is in college aged 19 and Louis is in high school at 17. Louis is Canadian in this story and Harry and his family are British but moved out there for reasons we will learn. I wanted to write it in the city of Vancouver also for reasons. Plus the winter weather in surrounding cities/mountains is good for the story. The beginning gets right into it, no slow build on introductions because there's enough coming. Further in there is a time hop, where Louis will be 21 and Harry 23, but we'll get to that. I just wanted to explain. 
> 
> To any readers, I really hope you enjoy, it's going to be chaotic.

“Wait, who?”

“You know who.”

“Remind me.”

“The one I’ve been telling you about for like a week now.”

“You’ve been telling me about Yoda and Hans solo and Spare Walls and all that crap for several _years_ Zayn, and I still have no idea who they are.”

The squinted glare that sizzled onto the side of his face fooled no one, eyes drifting slowly back as he took a cigarette and tacked it between his lips, “It’s… _Star Wars_.” He spoke through the side of his mouth, giving him a strange lisp, “And this is different, this is a boy.”

Louis gasped, stopped mid stride to turn to his friend who thought he were being serious until - “You mean, everything I’ve been looking for since the birth of Christ?”

“Your sarcasm stopped being cute a week after we met.”

Louis walked on with a satisfied smile, watching his converse so he avoided stepping on the lines of the flooring slabs, leaving a blustering Zayn behind a few beats.

“Look, _look_ ,” He caught up and pointed to nothing, licking his lips, a sense of urgency in his usually planate voice, “I mean it alright? He is so chill. Real nice closet too. And h-,”

Louis slowed his pace, ignored the couple of kids bashing past his shoulders in favour of awarding his friend an odd look. “Closet?”

Zayn dismissed him, waving his hand and shaking his head, “No, not like - I mean actual clothes. You know what I mean. The most important thing here is that this, this could be the ticket to your virginity.”

“The ticket _to_ my virginity?”

“Yes.”

“As in,” His eyebrows arched, “towards it?”

Zayn nods, cigarette tucked between his lips as he fumbles for his lighter from his jeans. He found his phone first, which caught his attention.

“A one way ticket to my pure and virtuous soul."

His friend hummed, only a little distracted by his screen when he mumbled, “Or hole. Both work.”

Louis stares at the tumorous object and motions with his hands, “…Straight ahead, no left turns, no option to veer right, just keeping going and when you see the tiny beaten up comic book store with a free breakfast club for members only, stop for you have reached your destination of communal heaven of the virginal.”

Louis let go of the breath it took to exclaim that in one go, flopping his arms out to the side as he went about ignoring the odd looks he’d attracted from the outburst. He saw the orange lighter poking out the top of Zayn’s jean shorts, plucking it and flicking the spark wheel a few times before Zayn leant forward by habit as he brought his deathly addiction to life.

“Damn,” Zayn clapped a soft palm to his shoulder, holding the lit stub between his fingers, “you still go there?”

Shoving his companion off Louis pulled an unflattering face and tugged the thick strap over his shoulder, lugging his rucksack up a couple of inches. “I’m just - I’m in no rush to reach that destination Zayn and Zayn for the love of God stop sparking up a light inside. You’re gonna’ get thrown out I swear.”

His response was of course to simply take an extra long drag on the thing, inhaling deeply, holding it and then exhaling right into Louis’ face.

There was only one person who found Zayn as funny as Zayn found himself. And that was Gemma Styles. The senior who had just started her first year in college across town. She’s always on campus though because a spritely young thing like Gemma does not simply leave an establishment without securing many, many friendships across the years. She’s just ‘one of those people.’ Those kind faces that always makes sure to flash you a curt smile when passing you in the hallway, always there to pick up your books if you tripped and fell flat whilst the rest of the school were in up roar and was always, _always_ , invited to every party, every get together, ever held across grades.

She was _in_. And yet, not totally above you and completely relatable. Annoyingly. Louis’d always wanted to hate the popular crowd, had it instilled into him from a wee age to rebel against the norm, stand up for the underdog even when - as like Gemma’s case - there is really no reason to and has actually found himself growing quite fond of her. Although Zayn could just be exaggerating when he talks about their engagements as he is balls deep in love with the girl.

“Look, all I’m saying, is give it an hour. You don’t like it then leave.”

Spluttering through the small cloud of smoke puffed intentionally before him, he grimaced, “There’s more chance of me sautéing my butt cheeks and serving them up with a side of caramelised onions at my Mother’s book club tonight.”

Holding the door open for a second longer, Louis having already passed through, Zayn pondered on this.

“You know he may even be into that.”

Louis snorted, “Yeah, okay. This conversation ended the second you considered granting that with a response.”

Zayn shrugged, slinking out next to him, “You know what the British are like.”

“Kinky?” Louis guffawed, kicking the heels of his converse on the loose grains of cement across the forecourt. “With a pinch of cannibalism?”

The sun blazed his face once he came from under the shelter of the building and he held up a hand to shield it, “Oh look,” Irony was his least favourite concept - especially today, “The madame herself is just over there looking all… swan like and such.”

Never had he seen Zayn move so fast as he did when Gemma was about. Especially when he’s doing something that suggests he’s remotely in proper. Which, Louis has to roll his eyes as every single time because under the laws of all things stereotypical and ridiculous, he’s come to the resolute conclusion that because she is English everything must be just _so_. He firmly believes it’s all tablecloths and dolly trollies in her house and everything from the hand wash to the bed linen is rose scented. So smoking is absolutely out of the question.

It was somewhere in the fast seconds of Zayn discarding the stub and frantically smacking the end of a pack of extra strong peppermints into a cupped palm where Louis opened his mouth to comment on how next to his turtle Derek he’s the most absurd creature he’s ever met but was undercut by an almighty engine roaring to life behind them.

Jaw left hung open, he swung around by instinct to locate the noise and furthermore the vehicle and _furthering that_ , the idiot behind the wheel.

“Ahhh,” The way Zayn broke off into a laugh then, got Louis turning straight back round, frowning, “man oh man s’fucking perfect.”

“What um,” That smile was never good news either, he’s never trusted that smile, “what is?”

Slapping him on the shoulder a couple of times, Zayn kept his dark eyes forward on that throaty sounding vehicle yet leant into Louis’ personal space to say, “Killing two birds with one stone my man.”

Turns out he neither had a choice of whether he wanted to be a part of this sabotage nor did he get to question it further because he was being yanked forward by his strap to follow suit as Zayn strode off in front, rolling his shoulders a little as he approached the parking lot.

It was a reluctant, yet oddly dazed impulse Louis was under to follow. He had no idea what was going on and if it involved Gemma he really didn’t fancy standing around while Zayn helplessly flopped and flirted and beamed off every joke she laughed at. With her perfect hair and her weirdly toxic eyes that seem to follow you around the room. Like that painting. Louis didn’t enjoy that.

“Zay- _Zayn_!” Louis whisper shouted, pulling at his shirt collar lightly, feeling like a duckling anchoring after it’s Mother’s attention, “Zayn I really can’t be-,”

“Oh my gosh,” Gemma’s soft voice got lifted and smacked straight into Louis’, “Zayn!”

He stopped, _just_ held back a sigh. “-never mind.”

Zayn went about the usual; they hugged, she giggled, he ducked his head nodding about absolutely nothing acting all coy when in fact he is as far from shy or fragile as a human being can actually get, and after Gemma points out that she likes that tattoo and ‘ _is it new? I swear I would’ve seen it before now,’ and ‘oh my god I didn’t think anyone listened to The Boxmasters that shirt is so cool where did you get it from oh my god I can’t believe it_ ,’ … Louis’d found himself being pulled along by a distant thought about whether he were going to have chicken with his stir fry or beef. Hopefully his Mom hadn’t replaced all the meat in the house with the meat-free vegan shit because of animal rights activist and all round green-machine Shereen at book club tonight-

“ _Louis_!”

Unintentionally biting the inside of his cheek he snapped his head back to Zayn. Him and Gemma and some other girls he doesn’t know but hold familiar faces. Wincing at the metallic taste filling his mouth he swallows, “Yeah?”

“Louis, Louis Tomlinson.” Gemma pulled a face, coming in for a hug with wide spread arms, “Aw don’t be shy of course I want you there.”

He hoped the smile he feigned looked genuine. He may be on the short side of miserable but he didn’t _hate_ her. He refrained from answering, not quite knowing what to say really as he had literally zero idea of what she was referring to when she did the job for him,

“So you’re going to come to the party. I haven’t gotten to know you as much as I’d like, and if Zayn likes you then,” Shooting a sweet, knowing look to the boy he dipped his fucking head again, “well so do I.”

Great.

The party, of course.

Brilliant.

Now the goddess herself has personally invited him to this momentous event that she’s holding for her Brother’s return - which, if he thought about it, was a bit over the top for someone who was outside royal relations - how could he possibly wriggle out of it?

Her eyes were green and wonderful and doing the thing again, looking at him with a kind smile and a cocked head but still seeming to slice right through him. So he smiled right back. It was tight but he smiled and nodded and _actually ducked his head_.

“Alright, thanks.”

Beyond gleeful, she clapped her hands together and jumped a little on the spot, “Oh excellent! There’s so many coming its going to be fantastic - old friends and _new_ ,” She made a point of looking at Louis, “Harry’s going to be so pleased.”

“So, Harry’s here?” Zayn cleared his throat, tipping his chin to the black vehicle that had turned its engine off but had been stagnant this entire time, “That’s him right?”

_Okay._

Louis' skin felt like it'd moved on its own.

Right now, right there. Now it all made sense. Now Louis knows why he was dragged like a child across the parking lot after Zayn looked like all his prayers had been answered in one thrum of an engine. Because of the very thing he’s been chewing his ear off about all afternoon and, as he said, the person he’s been trying to convince him about for - inverted commas - a whole  _week_  now. The boy who is supposedly something else. The boy who, and Louis may be paraphrasing, Zayn said was ‘absolutely fucking gorgeous - like, alluring, man. You know? Mysterious I guess but so warm. Sort of prince charming vibe - type that looks like he could fuck you dry until the sun comes up then make you breakfast in bed.’

Louis may have laughed. And involuntarily wondered how bizarrely particular and sexually orientated his friend’s deductions skills were.

But he also was the least convinced. He’d never been in a relationship - if you leave out the on and off fumbles he had with Troy Davidson last year that lasted a couple of months before his girlfriend (who Louis had no idea existed) came back into town.

“Oh, yeah,” She lifted her head, squinting against the sun to peer at her Brother’s location. If Louis weren’t seeing things it appeared she sort of sniffed the air for a split second, “dunno what he’s doing… probably just sat scrolling on his stupid phone again-,”

She sighed and as if on cue, the driver side door unlatched.

The group of them turned around - Zayn and Louis were the only two with even a whiff of surprise on their faces - both frowning as a pair of legs, long and wrapped tight in worn black denim swung out with speed and landed with a thud, timed perfectly with the slamming of the door shortly after.

Gemma looked quietly smug, raising an eyebrow as he approached with dragging steps, looking almost too lazy to walk with the gravel crunching under his weight. “Hilarious.”

His voice.

Louis thought he may need to clear it, for the gravel beneath their feet was nothing in comparison.

But then - “Wha-you _heard_ her?” Louis’d never met this boy, only just this second actually physically seen him and was still coming to terms with two horrifying realities which were a) he’s going to some rich kid’s house surrounded by people he wouldn’t hang around with by freedom of will and b) Zayn, after all, for a straight male, may have a near perfect taste in men.

The boy - _Harry_ \- stopped dead, eyes hidden behind a pair of shades and by the inclination of his head he definitely just gave him a once over.

It felt like there were a beam on him. A spotlight from the God’s above, the crowd around him just waiting, anticipating his next sentence as the heat scorched his resolve until he were nothing but a squeak and two pounds of flesh.

He readjusted his step and tried to swallow around the dryness in his throat. He really didn’t like the feeling of being watched.

“You- how did you hear what she said? You were in the car and you just,” Louis motioned to Gemma, then back to Harry, feeling like he didn’t need to explain himself, “you know.”

Harry’s jaw had been working around some gum this entire time and Louis wanted to slap him for chewing like that. But then it stopped. And Harry removed his glasses with one move, squinting as he allowed himself to look Louis in the eye, the late Summer wind picking up around them which made the thick waves of hair arranged on his head flicker. He’d said nothing, done nothing but stared. Louis’ unprompted induction possibly haven stirred him somewhat strangely.

He tucked his sunglasses in the dip of his check shirt, looking like he wanted to let the tease of a smirk on his face brith a little wider as he brought his eyes back over to his Sister.

“Are you hanging around with these blood bags for any particular reason or?”

“ _Brother._ ”

Louis’ jaw may have dislocated from dropping so wide.

Not only had he completely side stepped his question, but he’s pretty sure he’s just slung another insult attitude him and Zayn in the form of ‘blood bags’. Which, he didn’t understand why such a nickname would even occur or made sense but still. His temper was shook. The smaller boy - which was easily decidable as Harry was very much in his personal space and very much taller - accepted this with a tight smile and a nod.

“Awesome.” Louis turned away, avoiding Harry altogether to look at Zayn, “Thought you said he was _nice_?”

Not because he was too afraid to look back into those terrifyingly cutting eyes - since he’d uncovered them it was clearly just how alike they were to his Sister’s. Just as striking. Just as weirdly terrifying. Just as harrowing now he could _feel_ them anchoring his side profile.

Keys jangled, Harry’s, somewhere to Louis’ left. His feet repositioned and Gemma, for the first time in since Louis’d known her, looked at a loss of what to do. She was transfixed on her Brother, looking at him like she were waiting for him to react to something.

“I’m sorry I just- seems like someone is still a little jet lagged,” Making a point of looking at Harry she turned to Louis a hand grazing his bicep through his hoodie softly, “I apologise.”

“Are you kidding -Zayn?” Harry’s voice again. As much as first impressions had gone down like a fart in a church, he was drawn to that drawl, straining his neck to peer over Gemma’s shoulder as Harry inched a little closer to his friend, “the kid who’s always around our house?”

“Uh, y-yeah man.”

Her hand slipped from his bicep and she threw one to her Brother’s instead, thumbing over his shoulder.

“Why are you interested in stale meat my friend?”

“What?”

“- _Harry_!”

His boots scratched on the floor, one step closer to a shrinking Zayn, “I thought I put it quite nicely last time to back the fuck away.”

Zayn opened his mouth to speak but Harry cut him off, “You should really quit while you’re ahead mate. Punching above your weight isn’t attractive.”

His shoulders were squared, something aggressive and far too territorial falling over his presenting in a matter of seconds. The girls stood next to Zayn looked like they were ready to either pounce to Zayn’s imminent defence or run away at a whiff of the next shot fired.

“ _Enough._ ” Gemma stopped between them, a brave hand on the centre of his chest. She was smaller, dainty in her proportions in comparison yet there was no fear, no unbalanced rivalry between the siblings as she stood determined, eyes burning into Harry’s as she stood and spoke clearly. “Let’s go.”

“Zayn,” Gemma said his name once Harry tore his eyes away and trudged back to the car, only turning when he was a good few feet away and placed a hand on his shoulder. She leant in, not needing to reach up by much as she was already quite tall, and landed a soft kiss to his cheek. “Over protective brothers, just ignore him. I’ll see you next week, okay?”

As distraught as he was from this individual, Louis was coloured aghast. He was stock still to the spot and feeling as if he were a ghost in a parallel universe, an invisible onlooker to the scenes that had just played out. None of it made sense. There were so little things spoken and yet evident hostility. From nowhere. Had Zayn dreamt the part where Harry was supposed to be ‘chill’ and ‘quirky’? The hottest fuck Louis would ever receive?

He frowned, looking over to the black vehicle across the drive and felt his heart jump, a burn pooling into his chest when he saw Harry stood, hand a white hot grip on the handle, the other a painful hold around his keys and those eyes unmistakably centred on him.

 

*

 

A mile and a half out and Gemma broke the silence, unable to keep it to herself any longer, the need to infiltrate the obvious lingering around their throats, steadily suffocating them.

“Harry.”

“Don’t.”

As always he was one step ahead. As an alpha, due to replace his Father as _the_ Alpha, his abilities were stronger than most, only to grow stronger, his urges more uncontrollable with time. He gave no warning but that word to his older sibling, yet she ignored it.

“Is it him?”

Three words and the tension bled through his eyes; eyes once a brilliant emerald now a searing, acidic yellow as he tried to pull back his pre-rut temper.

His lack of response answered what she already knew. What she had vowed ever since they found out his fate, to keep between them, a promise between siblings. Unlike the majority of others she didn’t fear Harry, her little Brother, her blood. She hoped the day would never come that she would have to, but some things are beyond their control. Just like this, just like Louis.

“Hey,” She could feel his anger, his anxiety, his _alpha_ , “it’s going to be okay.”

A hand snaked onto his forearm, strained as it gripped the wheel.

Trivial lies, soothing words that are supposed to temporarily dampen current panic, wore useless on Harry. But he smiled at the effort. And he continued to smile when he laughed with zero humour, staring blankly ahead and croaked out a response.

“No it’s not.”


	2. Chapter 2

“How old is he again?”

“Nineteen,” Zayn spoke between shovelling mouthfuls of dumplings and noodles, “couple years above us, college.”

“And…” Louis watched as Zayn sucked a noodle up, slapping a little sauce on his chin, “studying what?”

“Business? I don’t know.”

“But you guys spoke a lot when you were round there, how can you not know?”

“Dude,” Dabbing the corner of his mouth he swallowed - which he couldn’t make look more painful if he tried - and shook his head, “I thought he was a decent guy up until yesterday, the fuck do I know?”

A point well made.

Louis slumped back into his seat, crossing his arms after shoving his own bowl of noodles away, his appetite having frankly disappeared at the mention of Harry. Which annoyed him for he’d known him less than 24 hours and he was the one who brought him up.

“Yeah, looks like my virginity won’t be turning up in the lost and found any time soon.”

Louis frowned at a rowdy group of girls a couple tables down, all huddled around a laptop and giggling and whispering.

Zayn waved a fork at him, “He’s hot though.”

The response was a mere scoff. Nothing more. Of course he was hot, Louis wasn’t blind. But he was the sort that knew he was hot and so therefore putting that confirmation out into the universe, even if it was only to his best friend, made Louis sick to the core. He was an asshole. A obnoxious, arrogant, too-big-for-his-boots, hot asshole.

“Did he actually say something though? About you and Gemma?” An asshole, that apparently Louis couldn’t stop talking about.

“What do you mean?”

Louis huffed, pulling his chair in a little as he slammed his forearms on the table, “You know, when he said about not being clear enough last time, I presume he warned you off her or something.”

“No, actually. He’s been super chill around me always, we never really speak about Gemma,” Zayn shrugged, tipping his head to someone who’d just walked in the canteen, “so I have no idea what he’s talking about.”

Louis pulled a face, beyond perplexed, “Then why the fuck did you let him speak to you like that?”

“Oh I don’t know, maybe because I’m 145lbs of defenceless skin and bones and have a circulation that makes me bruise like a peach.”

A vacant stare from his blue eyed friend got him leaning forward too, mirroring his body language to reply, “Have you _seen_ that boy?”

Yes. All the excessive inches from head to toe. He’d taken them all in. Begrudgingly.

“Still,” Louis rolled his eyes, stubborn for zero reason, angry because of himself, “asshole.”

He smiled weakly as Zayn’s fellow art student Liam joined them, doing that bro-handshake/hug thing they do which Louis’d really never fully understood nor felt comfortable with. It’s either a hug or a handshake. No grey area.

“What you guys talking about?”

Liam nestled himself nicely in the chair next to Zayn. After checking with Louis it was alright, he snatched his unfinished noodles from across the table and tucked in, eating with the similar lack of social awareness for any sort of decency.

“Harry Styles.”

His eyes lit up around a mouthful of chicken, “Oh, Gemma’s party thing?”

Zayn nodded, pointing a finger at him before he continued to say, “You’re going?”

“Definitely, you?”

Having realised the question was aimed at the both of them, Louis scowled at Zayn’s eager, wordless nod and sighed. Crossing his arms and slumping back into his chair to peer over at the girls again.

“Absolutely not.”

 

*

 

He’d get neck ache if he didn’t snap his head back to centre soon enough. Nothing in the entrance hall cost less than $200, for sure. Absolutely no doubt. Apart from that bottle of San Miguel. That was definitely the cheapest thing, sticking out like a sore thumb on the polished wood table. Louis shook his head, having this conversation play out in his mind as he navigated through the small gathering of people, pushing through to one of the lounges where most of the noise was coming from.

Turns out Zayn exaggerates nothing when it comes to the physical details. Other things however.

‘ _Harry is super cool and chill_ ,’ - false.

‘ _Harry is super attractive_ ,’ - true.

‘ _Their house is like a small castle, just off Lake Samasat, I swear their front door costs more than our entire house_ ,’ - Pretty much.

Also - ‘ _Gemma won’t make a fuss of you, I promise. I told her that you’re not hot on big gatherings so honestly, nothing to worry about. Just relax_.’

… _False._

“Louis!”

Eyes widening, the room feeling like it were shrinking, he froze at the excited blonde almost skipping her way towards him. And now on him.

She squeezed so tight he let out a tiny peep, “-h- _oof!_ ”

Attempting to return the gesture with as much enthusiasm while also trying to ignore the masses of faces trawling their judgmental gazes over him, he smiled weakly, “Hi Gem.”

She pulled back, flicked her hair out of her face and sighed, holding him at arms length, “I’m glad you came. So, so happy you decided to come.”

“Yeah…” He would never say he suffered with anxiety, not really. Not panic attack level anyway. “Me too.”

But as of right now, if Gemma’s hold on his bicep intensified by just a smudge and it triggered him to wake bolt up right in bed, he wouldn’t exactly be disappointed.

“Come on.”

Looking around herself before moving, she encouraged Louis to follow, a kindness in her eyes and an ease in her stride. The living room felt like it were the size of an average church hall, the ceilings were high enough and the windows looked liked they’d belonged in Hogwarts.

Gemma herself looked like she belonged to some Edwardian heritage come modern day twist. Sporting a black lace smock dress that swung from her chest down with a low back, her hair left straight and blunt and the most wonderful shade of blood red painted onto her lips. Her features were so beautiful Louis felt a strange pang of jealousy. Or something akin to it.

“You drink?”

Normally? No. Tonight? On tap.

“Yeah, uh,” He shrugged, skin prickling still with the looks he were receiving, “sort of.”

“Sort of? You mean you snag the odd bottle of lager from Daddy’s cupboard when he’s not looking?”

Technically, Zayn’s. But girl was spot on.

Laughing was an appropriate response. Words, having been too high a goal in that second.

She continued to un cap a bottle of something transparent, which Louis thought must’ve been an expensive vodka at first but getting a whiff of the perfumed scent from the frosted neck, he realised it was something much more fruity.

“Here,” She mixed it with lemonade and handed it over in red cup, “best start you off on something soft.”

She had this look in her eye that made Louis feel like he were talking to his Mother. He raised his glass in salut and thanked her for it quickly before taking a polite sip and oh _lord_ that was the most heavenly thing to ever pass his lips.

“That good huh?”

Frowning, Louis stopped swirling the liquid. His pleasure must’ve been splattered across his face. Way to go to blend in.

“I just- never tasted something so fruity before,” He swallowed, a small pout ballooning his lips, “s’good.”

In the second that followed, Gemma shifted from the concerned, cooler big Sister to protective, Mother of one. Her liquid forest eyes passed right over Louis’ shoulders and she stood up straight, readjusting her smock dress. She pursed her lips and spoke without taking her eyes from whatever it was she’d caught.

“Louis, I mean it when I say I’m glad you came. My brother, the other day,” Only now did she look back to him with a somewhat nervous gait, “he was extremely tired and has a lot on his plate. He tends to not know how to channel his stress.”

Unbelievably, he’d entirely forgotten about Harry.

“It’s cool-,”

“-No,” Louis’ eyebrows rose, “no it’s not cool, Louis. He was inexcusably rude and I’ve done nothing but sing his praise for time on end and that, that, was what he granted you with a first impression.” She shook her head, eyes drawn over his shoulders again, “Nevertheless. I’m delighted it didn’t put you off.”

“I wouldn’t want to leave Zayn alone with this amount of free alcohol.”

Before he realised what he’d said, the insinuation of it, he giggled and took another sip. When it settled in he peered over the top of the rim to gauge her reception and to his pure relief, she was chuckling. She even grabbed her own glass - why did she get the crystal tumbler and he was stuck with a plastic cup - and raised it.

“Cheers to that.”

Then she was backing away and the ease that was steadily settling over him, was falling again. She nodded her head, “Besides, gives him a chance to apologise in person.”

What?

Louis’ frown pulled together again, “What do _y-_ ,”

“Louis.”

Not expecting anyone to be directly behind him and from the proximity of that voice, so close, he jumped. Swung around while he pretended his heart wasn’t rabbeting as hard as it was against his ribs. He didn’t know how to feel about the offered hand, staring at it like it’s intention was alien.

But then, “-Harry? Harry! Damn, how are you I haven’t seen you all evening.”

They were interrupted by a boy wearing black head to toe, a silver hoop earring punched through his left lobe. He was tan and had green eyes, paler than the Styles variety. Harry locked onto the intruder and Louis felt the heat in his gaze.

“Tyler.”

The boy took one look at Louis and then back to Harry, immediately slipping his arm from around Harry’s neck. The announcement of his name was all that was needed apparently, to get the message across that his presence wasn’t welcome. Louis got the distinct impression that Harry rarely needed to use his words much; seems to have it all written in his all consuming _everything else_. Literally.

He accepted his hand and only just avoided his voice coming out like a squeak when his hand got lost in Harry’s big, _big_  palm, “...Hi.”

“I’m,” He started, hand slipping from Louis’, but didn’t look like he would finish - didn’t look like he _could_ , “- I just, I wanted to formally apologise to you.”

Louis' eyebrows had barely finished making their slow transcend to his hairline when Harry added, “For the other day. I was tired and weighed down with the time difference and I, um, well I’m just sorry.”

Although it felt genuine, generally, there was something still irking Louis about it. Something still forced about it. Like he’d sort of rehearsed the whole thing before his arrival and just threw it up in a uniform manner to get it out the way. However, an apology is an apology and Louis is not one to hold a grudge.

“Okay,” He smiled, nodded once, twice, nearly three times as he peered at his toes. Caught himself just before he _giggled_ , for Christ’s sake. “Alright, well have you spoken to Zayn? You were a bit of a shit to him.”

Or maybe he was.

“I- no.” Was all he said, looking disappointed in himself. Or irritated Louis had brought it up.

He was excruciatingly difficult to read, Louis was learning. Despite being able to communicate with little words, nothing about this boy was quite adding up and he felt a little nervous around him. But he always felt nervous around attractive boys who smelt like that. With quirks and odd temperaments. Maybe being mysterious and intense was Harry’s quirk.

The night pushed on, Harry slinking off after making a promise to find Zayn and apologise. He did too, Louis found out. Thanks to Zayn coming up to him, pulling him to the side in a whisper shout - ‘ _oh my god Louis, Harry fucking spoke to me_ ’ and Louis had to gasp, act all surprised when he said he was just jet lagged and blah blah and yes he obviously saw how stupid he was being.

Shortly after, they swam through the crowds, after Louis drowned himself in the rest of that fruity goodness Gemma had introduced he found himself caring less and less about what people thought and vice versa. He learnt a thing about himself - he was quite the judge. He was quick to come to conclusions about people and he hated that. Half the people he thought were throwing knives at him when he stepped in earlier actually turned out to be pretty cool people, coming from across town - even from different cities, to welcome Harry home.

He was also coming to learn one more thing. Harry really can’t be _that_ bad then. People traipsing their bodies from all corners of Canada and afar to meet and greet some 19 year old.

He didn’t know what it meant or even if it should feel good, but all night it’d felt like a cat and mouse chase of anything but violent desire. It was silent and unspoken, both of them stealing those little glances and seeing how long the other would hold it for until one of them ducked away with a small smile. It felt stupid and senseless and odd, but in all the right ways. If that even made a grain of sense.

He made him feel like a child, with the giggling he managed to reduce him to with barely a word, made him feel like he were being watched - which he usually detests, but it were different here. Almost as if Harry picked up on his silent attraction, the exact something Louis couldn’t even pinpoint or make sense of himself and he’s waiting for him to give in. All night just watching and waiting, keeping an eye on him until he finally caves. And Louis’d been watched and gawked over before, by the unfortunate crowds of unwelcome attention. But Harry - it was just different. It felt different.

“You still don’t like me do you?”

Once more the six foot question mark appears from absolutely nowhere with zero warning.

Louis. Was far too drunk to be having a conversation like this with a person like this. His tolerance to alcohol was never good, not much of a drinker, if that didn’t include the beers him and Zayn would sneak every Friday when their parents trotted off on their weekly ‘date nights’.

He turned around from the conversation he was having, unimpressed. 

“Terribly sorry I’m currently engaged.”

“Answer my question.”

Harry’s drawl fell over him again, too _there_  to ignore. The girl he were speaking to had long stopped, looking at Harry with kind amusement rather than disgust. Louis sighed, turned around again to face him.

“I don’t even know you.”

She left without a word.

No. A bottle of beer was infantile to this unidentified liquid in his cup that he’d entrusted Zayn with the honour of getting for him. This stuff made him gooey and loose and _flirty_ and he could feel his head falling to the side under that gaze already.

“Well then, if you so allow it, may we start over?”

Who speaks like that? What sort of dual personality does one have to possess to go from too-hot-for-you asshole a week ago to this intensely apologetic, virtuous sole who wants to-

_Since when were they holding hands?_

“Uh…u-um,” Louis stuttered around a sober response as long fingers gently intwined between his.

“Come on.” Harry used his grip to pull him up the stairs, apparently aware of how Louis would barely be able to make his way up them by himself, remaining a steady guide the entire way as if he were afraid he were as fragile as bone china.

“Where is one taking me?” He found himself hilarious, snorting in the least attractive way when they reached the first floor, twirling to see which direction they’d be going next only to be guided back onto the next flight of stairs.

Harry didn’t seem to mind the dig at his accent, not missing a beat when he deadpanned, “To meet your maker.”

Louis froze, nearly falling backwards to look him in the eyes, “People with your accent and voice should never be allowed to make sinister jokes.”

“What implied it was a joke?”

Louis stared. Tried his best to look pissed, came off endearingly skeptical.

“People with your alcohol tolerance shouldn’t be allowed to drink it either. Such is life.”

The floorboards creaked under their weight at the top and Harry opened a door for Louis to walk into.

It was dark at first, the only light coming from the thin drapes pulled over the window to his left. It smelt like fresh oak but old books. Something like a library maybe. But when the light flickered on his suspicions were wiped. There were books alright, plenty of them, scattered around the place with book marks and paper weights and a notice board tacked with excessive pages of messy scrawl. But the room itself was far too tiny to be classed a library, there was only a small desk with a wooden chair and a larger, leather chair situated in the corner next to the window.

“So, Louis.” The way he said it made it sound like he were testing it. Whether the lick of his lips after he repeated it again was intentional or not, it got Louis desperately fighting against the blush blossoming upon his cheeks, “Suits you.”

Giggling at the sincerity in his voice, for some reason finding the frown forming on his brow increasingly hilarious, Louis raised his chin and adopted his best British accent again, “Why thank you Harold.”

Louis walked back around the boy, trying his best for a serious gait but the half smirk painted on his partners face really didn’t bode well with that plan. He sought to be nearest the door, after all he may be playing mister nice guy right now but if his temperament from being _‘a little jet lagged’_ was anything to go by, he didn’t want to be trapped in a wannabe library with him.

The arm Harry brought up to brace at the side of his head against the wall probably should’ve felt intrusive, but it didn’t. In fact, despite his musings, it was all Louis could do not to touch it. He wanted to hook a hand over his wrist or kiss it or something; just an overwhelming desire to be near.

“For the last time, I am not _posh_ ,” The eye roll was kind, lips already curling into a smirk, “everyone keeps- just because I’m British doesn’t automatically place me in line for the throne.”

“But your name does, _Harry._ ”

“Right thanks. I’d forgotten what it was for a second.”

“It’s so royal though?”

Harry matched his squinted eyes with an even more exaggerated head tilt, “It’s actually _not_ though?”

Another giggle from Louis. He didn’t know it, but Harry was counting each one as a blessing, tallying every chuckle, every bubble of laughter or unflattering snort as a mini victory. The sound of them all fast becoming favourites of his. “But you have to admit it’s pretty proper.”

“I’m admitting nothing.”

“It belongs to that group of names you know, for males, for young British aristocrats that live off Mommy and Daddy’s money and are born into greatness.”

Harry’s expression got Louis wanting to laugh again, but he just explained further, trying his best to be less obvious when it came to flirting, “You know like _Harry_ , Charles, George,” Louis counted on his fingers while Harry clucked his tongue, shaking his head, “Alfred, Henry, um… Oscar? Edward-,”

A short curse was pushed from Harry’s mouth and he stood back, letting his arm drop as he looked away, “Edward’s actually my middle name.”

And Louis couldn’t be more delighted.

“Oh my gosh! _See_?” He nudged Harry as if no, he could not in fact, ‘see’, “See this is what I mean! Guys like you a-,”

“Guys like me?”

“Yeah, like,” Louis beckoned to his body, “you know.”

Harry nodded, seriousness falling across his features as he cleared his throat, “Oh yeah, of course. My unfairly athletic body is well known amongst my aristocratic social circle.”

Louis slapped his chest, or at least what he thought was his chest, silently whimpering at how it felt like he’d just collided with a brick wall, “ _I mean_ ,” Dragging the last word out he rolled his eyes, “you’re obviously wealthy, moving here a couple of years ago to a house like this. You have a tonne of friends here and England, your parents are always away on business, you’re clearly well networked and you’re all you know… you’re not exactly- I mean you’re hot, so.”

The inflation to his ego was kept under wraps, pushing the earlier comments instead as he leant in just a touch, that sweet, rich scent rising up and filling his airways like the steam from a hot cup of cocoa, “For someone who doesn’t know anything about me you sure know a lot about me.”

Louis shrugged, somehow making himself look even smaller wedged there between Harry and the wall, “People talk.”

And well, this is true. People do talk. But it bothered Harry as to why he hadn’t addressed probably the most prominent feature about himself; the sole aspect of his existence that ran quite important above all else.  
He’d forgotten to mention the one thing that most people mention first and foremost. Or, individuals alike Louis at least. Humans that is. And especially with Harry’s family. They were high precedence amongst wolf society, considered almost royalty on reflection to how the heir-achy works in human civilisation and it’s always courtesy - or as far as Harry had encountered - for them to be addressed respectfully. All his friends, mainly wolves and hybrids but even those of whom were human knew who and what he was. All of those who weren’t his friends, they still knew. Their family were known. It was hard to take a breath in a neighbourhood without someone laying claim to having provided a Styles’ with oxygen.

Yet still, he found it most odd that Louis especially didn't seem to acknowledge any of it.

“Is this all you know about me? My wealth and dashing good looks.”

“Why, are there more riveting facts you wish to feed me with Mr Styles?”

Louis batted his eyelashes and Harry’s stomach _turned_. “Perhaps.”

He was programmed this way. Any sign of authoritative shift placed on him got his alpha twitching. But if this is what reaction Louis could coax from merely being playful, Harry had to be cautious about whether or not it was a good idea trying to befriend this boy, for his sake.

“Maybe, but first you’ll give me something.”

Louis pushed off the wall, shoulder grazing past Harry’s bicep as he walked to the desk, attention being snapped to the thick book laid open and bookmarked there. He ran gentle fingers along the edge of the pages, eyes scanning the words lazily, “What’s that?”

“Your full name.”

“Saucy.”

“I mean it, your full name for one fun fact.”

“You drive a hard bargain. But what makes you think I’m even that interested in you anyway?”

“We've been familiar for a collective of two hours and you willingly came up here alone with me, so, don’t play hard to get now.”

Louis dropped the diary, leather-bound and beaten. Well used. He was just tracing the engravings on the spine when a callous voice ripped through the air again, “Louis.”

It sounded like a warning and if Louis didn’t know any better and this were a different situation, he would have taken it as one. But turning back to be greeted with a half smile and soft eyes, he digressed.

“Guess.”

“Absolutely not, nope.”

“Oh whyyy,” Louis pouted, taking it upon himself to treat the spacious desk that was far too big to be for single person use as a perch and crossed his ankles as they swung above the ground.

Harry eyed him funnily, in a way he hadn’t until now. He’d been curious and attentive, even if the rest of his body showed no or little interest in him his eyes were always trained hard and absolute. But now they were surveying, a moment of pause from trying to work him out and just sort of glaring.

“Louis there is a chair, right there. A perfectly suitable place for you to park your bottom. My desk however, is not.”

“Oh- this,” Louis’ eyes widened, the blue in them evident even in this low light as he pointed to the item he were sat on, “this is yours?”

Harry threw out his arms. “This is my study.”

Well. That explains a _lot_. Louis silently mouthed an ‘oh’ slow and innocently as he took the room in once more, understanding it more entirely than when he first stumbled across it moments ago.

“You’re absolutely sure you’re not royal?”

Harry barked a laugh and it made Louis jump, a little nervous too, hands gipping the desk tightly for a hot second until the strange feeling passed. He watched on, Harry shaking his head as he let his smile settle, “Louis, your name.”

“I said guess.” Louis took to swinging is legs again, finding it weirdly endearing how Harry kept looking back to them every now again, “Your one and only clue is they end in ‘ _m_ ’ and ‘ _on_ ’.”

So deciding he really doesn’t want to use his alpha and scare him away - he only finished his rut three days ago so was still a teenage hormonal dick head - he trod firmly down on all instincts that were leaping forth and accepted what he’d been given.

“Okay.” He nods, letting his eyes linger on Louis’ for a second then back to those delicate ankles that were far too distracting at this hour with this proximity, “Alright. Malcolm.”

“Nope.” Louis shook his head, sucking in his lower lip.

“Adam.”

“Nope.”

Harry looked away, definitely didn’t growl. “Abraham?”

“N- _oh god_  I wish it was can you imagine?” Louis was in awe at the thought of having a strong middle name, repeating it out loud in his head in full over and over, deciding it sounded probably a little too bad ass for someone like himself. “So cool…”

“Quite.” Harry was losing patience fast. He knew why. But this fast this soon? It petrified him. “Sanderson?”

“No.”

“Hudson?”

A shake of Louis’ head and Harry’s band of patience snapped, “ _Just_ , tell me.”

“Oh no,” His tone was mocking and sarcastic and the adolescent alpha was done, “you’re so touchy.”

“You’re an infant.”

“Well I am two years younger.”

“You’re acting like you’re two years old.”

“Ouch,” Louis pouted again and Harry’s chest tightened, “touché Grandpa.”

Harry groaned, low yet still whiney enough to not be intimidating. He scrubbed his hands over his face and turned to Louis, looking like something had just clicked, “Louis Graham Parson.”

All it took was Louis trying to suppress another Godforsaken giggle for Harry to groan again, throwing his head back and his arms wide, “For fucksake'- _William_?”

“Ah he scores!” Louis pointed at him, nodding, “Yes!”

“William.” Harry checked, Louis nodded, “Louis William something I’m guessing…”

“If you tie my shoelace I’ll tell you my last,” He unhooked his ankles and waggled his eyebrows, his giggling never really stopping as he presented the foot of interest towards Harry.

Harry had never met a human so playful before. Never had he encountered someone with the frustrating combination of short stature, large wit and a unfathomable allure about them before that is able to get Harry bending and breaking to his demand. Just like now. After a shorter than he’d admit period of thinking about the offer he stalked over and crouched down, long fingers weaving though the cotton laces.

“You’re the most ridiculous person I know.”

“But can you really know a person without knowing their name?” Louis were testing his luck and Harry squeezed his bare ankle after completely his bow, the pressure applied causing a delightful little squeak from the boy.

He came to stand and placed his hands on Louis’ knees, spread nicely enough so Harry could slot between his thighs if he so pleased. Just the thought of taking the advantage got his cock fattening behind his zipper and he had to let go immediately. “So?”

He was getting under his skin tonight.

“So what?”

“Your name, Louis.”

“Tomlinson.”

“ _Tomlinson_ ,” He said it like it was the missing piece to a puzzle he’d been working on his whole life thus far, “Louis, William, _Tomlinson_.”

“Yes sir.”

“Wait,” Harry’s frown pulled together pretty fast and Louis froze, staring at the hand that was just raised back to the owner, “wait, hold up _Louis William To_ \- are you fucking serious? You have just dragged me for having an swish name and you’re walking around with a middle name that I think qualifies to be added to that list you spewed up earlier.”

He’d never thought about how smart his name sounded, his first name always sort of added a youth to the rest of it which made it sound less elegant and more soft and playful. But now he’d said it.

“Actually-,” He started but Harry’s laugh cut him off again.

“-what sort of royal hypocrisy?”

“I’ve never thought of it like that before, you’re right I-,” Louis held up his hands in defence, “honestly I never even, oh my gosh.”

They giggled for a little while, Harry throwing in a request shortly after for Louis to remove himself from the desk and after Louis begged and begged and promised to return it in the exact condition he’d took it, agreed for him to borrow his copy of ‘Nineteen Eighty Four’.

“Fancy yourself as a bit of a politician I see.”

Harry nearly threw up at the thought, “Absolutely not. Politics is nothing but recycled bullshit.”

Odd choice of literature then, Louis mused. But questioned no further. Partly because they were no longer alone, after a two knuckled knock was sounded and the door swiftly opened there after to reveal a boy about their age - Louis didn’t recognise him - who looked a little apologetic once he laid sight of them.

“Al- oh, my apologies, I didn’t realise you had company.” He spoke, voice low like Harry’s, but not quite as grainy.

“No it’s not, he’s- what’s the matter?” Harry disregarded his own uncertainty and turned fully to the new arrival, hands on his hips.

“Banyard.”

Although Louis couldn’t see his face, he wasn’t sure he wanted to if the reaction of the other was anything to go by. He pulled at his shorts and walked until he were within arms’ reach of Harry, still turned away. The boy, taller than him, probably more around Harry’s build kept looking back at him, like he were trying to verify his identity, as if Louis’ presence was unnerving.

“Louis, I’m afraid we’ll have to cut this short,” He turned without another word, taking his hand. The breath he took was all he could do to not growl when his alpha shifted at how tiny he felt in his grasp, “you’ll re-join the party. I’ll find you.”

Oh he will, will he? Louis doesn’t remember ever being spoken to like this before apart from professor or parent. The choice as to whether he wanted to or not however was stolen from him as he was quite literally escorted out of the study, down the hallway and out onto the landing, where Harry turned to look at the boy he still hadn’t gotten a name of, the who was still casting weary gazes over to Louis. With that one look, nameless boy nodded and descended the stairs.

“Come on,” Harry encouraged Louis - who was looking completely out of the loop but complying regardless - down the stairs a second later, “just so you know, I don’t consent to underage drinking.”

Did Louis want to be the person to break it to him that there were far more 17 year olds at this party? And they were all definitely as far from sober as one could get? He stuck his bottom lip out, watching Harry’s shoulders move, the tricep pulled tight as he kept his arm extended back to guide Louis by the hand behind him.

“I know there are people as young as you are here, and I know they’re making their livers bleed as we speak,” Louis bit his lip as they came to a halt on the bottom landing, the ground floor where the crowd was thick and the smell of bodies was pungent, “however I don’t give a shit about them.”

There goes an ambiguous sentence that seemed confoundedly honest it made his brain flip.

“You don’t want me drinking?”

Harry had grown peculiar in recent moments, paranoid ever since that name or word rolled off the other boys’ tongue - whatever it was - Bay something? He turned back from checking over his shoulder for the third time, “I want you to enjoy yourself, but be sensible.”

Too late, Louis thought, already giggling to himself again and Harry was frozen to the spot at the innocence before him. He didn’t know if he’d ever grow used to such a delicacy or if he even should. He wasn’t even his to grow used _to_.

“Okay dad.”

“I’m being serious,” Harry lowered his head, taking a step to the side and taking Louis with him to allow room for the person passing, “people won’t care for your limits. They won’t care about how poorly you will get.”

Louis didn’t want to have to say it. But Harry’s next move meant once again, he didn’t have to. He sucked in a sharp breath, surprised at how soft Harry’s lips were against the back of his hand as he graced him with the most intimate action they’d shared yet. Maybe it was a British thing.

Green eyes never closed throughout. Once he let his hand fall to his side, guiding it there gently he nodded and smiled briefly, “Now go, I’ll come find you.”

Harry Edward Styles. Whatever or whoever that was. Rich and royal or just royally rich, he was definitely unlike any other Louis’d encountered. And much unlike his foremost opinion, that really wasn’t a bad thing at all.

 

*

 

Louis finds Harry before he finds him and he’s a little more stoic than before. He see’s the empty bottle of whiskey and it doesn’t surprise him when he spies the caramel liquid swirling round in his crystal tumbler.

Now, usually Louis would walk away and presume he just wasn’t as interested as he thought. Maybe Harry was just a natural flirt; now that he thinks about it he does have that air about him, that ease of conversation where most people would go dry. But Louis wasn’t his usual self tonight. Tonight he was he was his ‘two vodka and coke’s and one unnamed raspberry liqueur’ down self and his virtuous body had gotten drunk a lot quicker than most therefore right now, it was the best idea in the world to march right up to him and play up.

He just about managed the marching part, if it weren’t for the groups of teenagers slung around the place and mostly, each other.

He’s just about within touching distance of the plush velvet sofa Harry was occupying when from this distance, it registered just how different he appeared from earlier. Harry didn’t seem to be having fun whatsoever. Sat with his elbows resting on his knees, whiskey glass hung loosely from those long, ringed fingers while the others rubbed his forehead. He looked stressed.

Or maybe he’d drank too much.

“Hey,” Louis’ voice was tiny, no one even moved, he’d have to try harder than that, “Hey future king!”

There were several other people sat with him, all male as far as Louis could see. The one with dark eyes and hair to match looked up from where he sat opposite to Harry, a look of surprise on his face as he saw who it was. Harry shot round immediately after, eyebrows furrowed. His eyes were a little bloodshot which made Louis uneasy, even though they warmed instantly with a smile. “My little prince.”

In that past hour or so, Louis’d forgotten how his voice sounded more like a broken purr, his innards bubbling in delight with the nickname. He returned Harry’s colossal smile as he placed his glass down and beckoned for Louis to come round to his side, Louis doing just so, trying to ignore how everyone else had eyes on him.

It took him a sober second to realise how ridiculous this actually was. He hated this boy a week ago. Barely know him even that well now and yet he has fucking butterflies at the chance of getting to sit next to him like he belongs.

“Hi,” Louis repeated, squeaking as Harry took his wrists and pulled him down to sit next to him, “you never came.”

Should he play hurt? No. The ridiculousness had gone too far tonight. But did he enjoy the attention? Definitely.

“Forgive me, Louis, I’m sorry it took so long,” Harry looked apologetic as he pulled Louis’ legs across his lap without asking permission, “duties called.”

Louis stared at his legs draped shamelessly over Harry’s thighs, gulping down the unease.

Apart from the music thrumming through the house, it was dead silence around them as Harry’s companions all took to exchanging glances and getting personal with the bottom of their glasses. Louis giggled, knew he was blushing from the position he lay in but couldn’t do much about it. “Someone needed beheaded?”

The hand snaking around his bare ankle only added to it, making Louis tense. “Something like that.”

Harry got momentarily lost in the wonder that was delicate joints and black converse when his nose picked up on the alcohol coming from this little human. His eyebrows raised accusingly as he peered up to the boy, lifting his cup to his lips with both hands and taking the world’s smallest sips.

Louis swallowed as he licked his lips and lowered it, lashes laying low from his lazy stare as he caught the alpha’s studious gaze. “What?”

“How much have you had?”

“I’m not sure exactly… how many glasses can you get out of a bottle of Grey Goose?”

Harry tightened his grip on his calf, electing a delightful little chuckle from him, “How much?”

“Only three,” He tried not to roll his eyes, raising his cup towards Harry, “Including this. It’s delicious.”

“I find it hard to believe the blush on those cheeks are from merely three servings of alcohol.”

How do people actually maintain a stare with those eyes? Louis would love to know, as he was finding it increasingly difficult.

Harry winced at the sweet tang coming from the contents, “You’re okay?”

“I’m perfect.” Louis waggled his eyebrows.

Harry nodded in agreeance, “I’m glad we’re on the same page,” He threw a glance forward to someone Louis didn’t care to look to, holding it for a few seconds with a stoney lilt, “Perfection.”

“Try some!” Louis retracted his legs from atop his thighs and repositioned so he were knelt next to him, fighting to get the boy to obey him as he pulled back, “What, is a fruity cocktail not fit for a king?”

“I don’t think,” Harry’s chuckle merged with Louis’, finally seizing his wrists to stop him from trying to force the substance down his throat, “-that’s not a cocktail.”

Louis gasped as his drink was placed on the side next to Harry’s crystal glass, the liquid looking like it were glowing with it’s amber hues. “It’s a raspberry and almond liqueur with a diet pepsi. Bit sweet for me though yes. I prefer the harder stuff.”

Being this close to Harry and this tipsy, meant Louis could really appreciate how wonderful his face was. Every line seemed to fall beautifully into the next, even the rise of his nostrils complimented his cupid’s bow and the fullness of curved lips below.

Louis swayed a little, head falling to the side. A small sober voice telling him to pull himself together as Harry’s hands wandered from his wrists to his biceps, curling around them as if they were nothing. “Everything alright my prince?”

He could also smell Harry’s breath.

“You smell like coffee.”

Harry grins and tips his chin towards a bottle of Patron - coffee liquor - from the far side of the table in front and offers him the tiniest taste. Louis refuses immediately, making a faux gagging face at the thought of the bitter substance - only tea for him thanks.

It was a few minutes later and Louis’d relaxed so much he’d ended up actually on Harry’s lap, stubborn at first but dose it with Harry’s eccentric authority and blatant disregard for Louis’ obvious nervousness he seemed to just navigate his body however he pleased. Not in an inappropriate manner, just sort of, as if he could pull him up and onto him like they’d known each other a lifetime. Louis’ sober head would’ve froze and ran away. Yet sat there now he was glad for the toxin in his veins allowing him to be loose; with his thighs sturdy and thick enough to support Louis perfectly, an arm around his lower back, hand resting on his upper thigh, it turned out to be a welcome touch. The torso he found himself leaning into more often than not was warm. So warm and solid but comfortable. Overall, Harry’s body was a much preferable option than the sofa so.

The small group Harry was sat with started to slowly mill back into conversation, Harry maintaining a strong grip on the small human throughout, the hand that wasn’t secured around his side, was always trailing up his bare calves, toying with his feet or ankles if he weren’t gesturing whilst talking. It is not unpleasant, just a little flustering for someone as inexperienced as Louis. He allows it, enjoys the feeling of large hands on his smaller proportions, bathes in how small he feels and quite frankly, protected.

Had he been of a more sober state, Louis would’ve caught the concerned looks his dark eyed-dark haired companion, the one who had interrupted them upstairs before, had been shooting Harry every so often. He would’ve caught the slight shift in colour in Harry’s eyes as he met his stare, forcing him back into submission, to keep any comments to himself and tightened his hold on Louis a little more.

Louis found himself nestled beneath his chin, body curled, heart steady and his innards warm. Warm and fuzzy as he let himself relax completely. Unashamed at how fast - baffled - yet unbothered by just how comfortable he was to slink across him like some sort of pet.

Harry checked in, a grumble and a puff of warm breath against his forehead, “Sleepy?”

He was tired. Very tired and cozy that he had to be forgiven for not being bothered about forming full sentences. In fact, forming any words at all.

He nodded, barely. Soft tufts of hair tickling Harry’s jaw as he did so, to which the boy smiled at, lost in him for a second. He basked in how he was able to pull this behaviour from Louis. The wolf in him puffing its chest with pride at his reactions. There was nothing romantic about it, not really. So Harry didn’t worry. It was fine, he was fine, they were fine. It was all fine. This was just two boys, one very rosy, drunk, unaccustomed to alcohol young boy who found salvage in another. Comfort. Nothing wrong with it.

Harry pressed his nose against this hair, being subtle about puckering his lips beneath the incredibly soft layers.

He was careful, so careful to not inhale too deeply. His scent was suffocating enough. He’d been fighting it all night, trying to push it to the back of his mind and ignore how the sweetness made his pallet salivate, his chest hum and his wolf ravenous.

He didn’t mean to close his eyes. When he opened them, he pulled back, checking Louis was tucked comfortably into his body and lifted his chin to see his sister standing behind the opposite sofa, resting into her arms and watching.

No words were required. Her face said it all. He wanted to claw that look right out of her studious eyes.

But, he knew she was right.


	3. Chapter 3

“He doesn’t know what I am.”

Harry pushed through the doors, his voice filling the room before his body, swinging open on their hinges violently as he burst through them. He brushed past the housekeeper, Marie and slammed two books onto the counter, dust puffing out from between them.

His sister looked to Marie with an apology in her eyes, un hooking the glasses from her nose, “Afternoon sunshine.”

He grunted in response, brow furrowed deeply as he couldn’t seem to find what he was looking for.

“Where’s the coffee?”

He was barefoot and wore nothing but a thin cotton, bare thread t-shirt that clung to his shoulders and chest , sleeves rolled up, and a pair of loose black pyjama shorts. This wasn’t the usual for his morning/freshly woken attire. Gemma and house keepers often had the misfortune to experience a fully or thereabouts naked Alpha padding his way across the hallway to steal something ridiculous like the tooth paste from his sister’s ensuite, whilst Gemma screamed and threw pillows at his bare ass.

“What coffee?” Gemma sighed, pushing away from the desk.

Harry ignored her completely, turning to Marie who paused with her mustard yellow duster held above her head atop the mantelpiece, “Marie?”

“C-coffee sir?”

The poor woman mouthed silently, confused, fearful. She recognised that look in his eye; seen it far too many times in this house and across generations. She didn’t know what to say to a rattled Alpha, be them as young as Harry or as grown and established like his parents, she was merely human and feared to step a foot wrong.

“Harry honestly what has gotten int-,”

“Is it their job or is it ours?” He pointed a finger loosely, turning back in an instant with the same hand running through his hair, eyebrows still knotted together. “The economy is tough Marie, I wouldn’t be slipping if I were you.”

Holding her hand up to Gemma who looked about fit too burst rising out of her seat now, the plump lady hurried out of the room to abide by his demand, the door clicking close on a soft sound. It left behind Gemma, glowering at her abomination of a sibling, her heart rate the only thing reaching his ears - that and the voice that’d been keeping him awake since he retired to his room at midnight.

“Some of us have been up since 8 you know, a decent time. Not risen from their abode at midday and class that as a suitable time to throw around demands for breakfast condiments.”

“I’ve slept not a wink all night.”

“I don’t care.”

Harry had his back to her by now, to the whole room as he stood with an arm braced against the window frame the overlooked the left wing of their gardens where the roses grew the most rich, obnoxious red and violent shades of purple. He hated them. This room was his least favourite.

The boy sighed, pushed out through his nostrils, “This makes everything worse.”

“What’re you hooting on about?”

He growled his name, his temper long gone. It hurt his throat as the sting of the void that sleep was supposed to have filled was consuming him already. He were built to handle lack of sleep. He had done so in the past, yet today it was kicking his back side.

“Pull it in big guy, the attitude won’t work with me.” She shook her head, blonde strands falling loosely around her face as she softly tucked them back each time, observing the books her Brother so kindly presented moments ago, “Brother you speak of welcoming no sleep yet you are doing nothing to help yourself.”

Harry turned his head, his profile blackened from the light before him. He was nothing but a solid outline, broody and imposing at the windows birth, “Pardon?”

Flicking through the old pages she wrinkled her nose, before stopping, a particularly strong image catching her eye.

“Well, writings on wolf hunters and anti-lupus movements isn’t exactly ideal bedtime reading for you.”

Looking back out to the roses, he intended to respond, about to explain how Dylan had pulled him aside the other night at the party and informed him of some nauseating news. But instead his breath caught mid inhale, pulse wracking his entire body when he was met with the violent mangled body of a wolf he didn’t recognise among the bed of roses.

“Gem-,”

His fingertips gripped the frame for the will to remain standing, his joints locking for the same reason yet his heart willing him to move, to help.

“Harry?”

He knew his change in pulse would’ve been detected, his throat growing increasingly dry the longer he stared. The wolf was lifeless, come from nowhere, its fur a pale grey with what Harry could see beyond the dry blood tarnishing it, white tufts on the underside belly. Why hadn’t he heard anything?

Gemma had called his name again, but he didn’t catch it. There was a whine in his chest somewhere, the want to aid this poor wolf precedent in the fore front of his mind yet for some reason he was frozen with fear. How the hell did that animal get there? And with so much blood.

He was unaware of how hard he had been gripping the frame until his sister’s gentle touch came as a release from his entrancement. He snapped his head to the side as if she’d pierced his skin rather than caressed it.

“What’s going on?” Her eyes were wide, her brow pulled tight as she took in the entirety of his face, the pace of his heart the fright in the air, “Harry tell me.”

After a beat, he replied.

“Call the medic,” Licking his lips, he pointed outside, “go fetch help.”

Without doubting him, although confused, she trusted his word and backtracked her way to the table to retrieve her phone while Harry bolted from the room even more ferociously than he’d entered it. The smell of fear and urgency was ripe as she tapped her screen to call their on call Doctor.

Glancing through the doors as they swung back and forth, she saw no glimpses of anyone occupying the corridor lifting the phone to her ear as she approached the window to see what had caused for such emergency.

Upon peering out, she frowned. But her attention was torn to the fast approaching form of her brother in the distance and she left the room immediately.

The skies were grey, the morning which was once cheerful and bright not a few hours previous given way to a gloomier passing of rain clouds. It smelt damp, the mist settling on the grass across the grounds already. Odd for midday weather.

Galloping down the steps, almost falling once or twice she picked up her speed to catch up with her much faster brother.

“ _Harry!_ ” Her voice raised, pitched with concern when she closed in on him bustling around in the garden.

Either he heard her and was choosing to ignore it, or he was too engrossed in tossing around the shrubs to even catch anything but the blood pumping in his ears. Either way, her confusion only grew with each step she took, coming to a slow jog the closer she got until she padded with her - now wet - socked feet at the edge of the garden path.

For a moment, all she did was stare. The line on her phone she still clutched dead from her ending the call the moment she looked out the window. She watched on as Harry frantically pushed aside bushes, caring little about disrupting their roots or the efforts gone into carefully preening them, weaving around plantations that were larger than him, coming out the other side with a more perplexed expression. What was clear, was he were searching for something.

“It was right here…”

What wasn’t, was what.

“What was?” Gemma questioned, crossing her arms against the cold, the wind frostier than it had been recently. “Harry what the hell is going on?”

“The _wolf_ ,” Patience was a sparse trait in Harry, something he would have to learn, “the wolf Gemma didn’t you see it?”

She saw nothing. Nothing but fresh greens and flourishing rose beds.

Harry barely hissed as the thistles scratched his skin, “ _Fuck_ ,”

“I saw no wolf Harry.”

“It was _here_ , it was right here,” He was crouched next to the bed where the growth was fullest, hand on the soil, “I saw it- it was hurt.”

She wish she knew what to do, even what to say. But she couldn’t for she needed to be inside that wonderfully perplexing mind to even begin to comprehend half the things going around in there. However this wasn’t a game, this strayed beyond any playfulness he would exude and it worried her. Helplessness dawned on her thinly as he finished surveying the beds, looking for a sign of something that obviously wasn’t there and stood quickly, once more uncaring for the mud on his bare knees, the cold against his skin or the tight cuts from the flower’s thorns.

He lifted his nose to the air, mumbling something about it being impossible but the wind carried his voice in the opposite direction of his sibling. Even if he caught a whiff of the animal, the slightest trace of blood, it wouldn’t explain the absolute absurdity of an untouched rose bed laid before him but it would at least be _something_.

Yet, nothing.

No wolf apart from his sibling and the familiar scent of his Mother not afar.

He turned on the spot, bare feet cold crunching on the damp grass, “I don’t understand.”

“Safe to say the medic isn’t required?”

She knew she was risking it when he took the smallest of seconds out of his bewilderment to shoot her a warning glare, one of his softest, reserved for her only, but it was still a sound caution for her to not push her luck. He dragged his eyes away, approaching her slowly, still surveying every step he took, turning every other step to check if he’d missed something. He _had_ to have missed something.

“I don’t want to tell you you’re going mad but my friend you’re utterly bonkers.”

He sighed, closing his eyes as a strong gust of wind picked up to their left and set his skin on fire.

She continued, stepping forward and hooking an arm around his, “I think your choice of night time reading has taken a toll an unfortunate toll on you.”

He allowed her to guide him, eyes back open even if it were barely. The emerald in them glowing a little more vibrant from the emotion flowing through his veins, turning his neck to check a final time for a face to be looking back, a flash of skin or fur or. Anything.

“If you’re…” Met with nothing again, he turned back, “gonna say I’m hallucinating,”

“-absolutely.”

“You’re a prick.”

“Well,” She giggled, taking the action of him supporting her arm by linking it through better as a good sign, “please tell me what else just happened right there?”

For that, he had no answer.

Maybe, she was right. She, as a beta held far more common sense that he would ever and it knocked his ego to admit - although he’d never formally deny it and this was one of those scenarios he may have to resign to accepting what was staring him int he face.

“You’re tired Brother.” She pulled him closer, rubbing her other palm against his bare forearm, “Ever since you met him you’ve changed.”

It wasn’t a lie. He knew he’d been growing a little grumpy, noticeably coarser around the edges than usual. It was unfortunate timing that the day he met Louis was two days before his rut, his emotions running expectedly higher than normal. But that was just it, he’d met him ten days ago and it’d felt like he were lingering on the edge of a cycle ever since; sleep taking the largest hit with insomnia greeting him more often than he’d like.

“Maybe.”

They’d tracked back around to the front of their house, where their Father was just pulling up the drive, tyres crunching on the damp gravel. Harry glared at the blacked out windows of the vehicle, boy pulling taut as he watched him park.

“Come on,” Gemma ushered him towards the mountain of steps to the front door that she’d left wide open due to her panicked exit, “Harry come on.”

Swallowing, he pushed back on the panic rising from his gut and followed her, his arm slipping away, “They’re going to find out sooner or later Gem.”

She said nothing.

This time, she knew _he_ was right.

Harry, although he knew his Dad would be coming through a second later, pulled the door close and shut out the cool outside. His heart was oddly calm, the curt distraction of his parent and the guilt that came with that had cause him to momentarily forget about what’d just happened. Or hadn’t. However you look at it.

Sighing he told Gemma to shut up whining, puffing his cheeks before he pushed off the door to follow her _again_. Then the sweet smell hit him and he veered off into an entirely different direction, ignoring his ears to follow his nose. And his taste buds.

It wasn’t a whole minute until his feet carried him into their kitchen, almost industrially sized it was ridiculous for a family of four but Harry wasn’t complaining. Not when they had chefs that cooked sensational meals and brewed the freshest coffee beans.

“Your coffee,” Marie was eager, cheeks blushed as she bustled over with the steaming cup, “just how you like it, black with one sugar.”

The pang of guilt, now his frustration had faded, smacked the centre of his chest. He believed he much deserved a slap across his face too.

“Apologies for the time it took young sir, to make up for my shortcomings I had Richard rustle you up a full cooked brunch,” She walked as she talked, weaving round the stainless steel counters to present Harry with the fried eggs Richard was peppering, “just finishing it off for you now, _oh-_ ,”

Harry bent down a touch to kiss her rosy cheek. Which turned a considerable shade darker at the act and she chortled gleefully, tapping his hand playfully, “Harry you silly boy.”

“Thanks, Marie,” He was smiling as she tried to stop chuckling, pulling the plate full of goodness from Richard’s counter to pass it over, “you’re quite wonderful.”

“Oh no bother,” She gave him the plate and shoo’d him to the other side of the kitchen, right out of the door, “eat up now won’t you young sir, as a growing leader you need all that nutrition.”

He dipped before she could escape and kissed her cheek playfully once more, fleeing before she had the chance to scorn him. It delighted him to hear her tutting as he set off to the communal kitchen, something they used for nothing but eating and the odd hot chocolate in the middle of the night when Gemma gets a craving.

The metal legs scraped painfully on the stone flooring as he pulled a stool out to sit on, taste buds dancing from the smell of fresh bacon, ‘bravas’ potatoes, spinach and more. He plucked a fork from the utensil holder and got to work.

“You failed to mention this _why?_ ”

Harry may have to get a second approval on his Alpha status for he didn’t puck up on his approaching sister, nearly choking around his mouthful of sautéed mushrooms.

“I-,” Coughing into his balled his fist, he cleared his throat, “what?”

“Louis,” She brandished the book that had kept him awake all night, the one he’s circled and pencilled notes into so he wouldn’t lose track, “he’s a fucking hunter.”

 

*

 

“Can you…” Harry trailed off, peering down at the speedometer, “please slow down.”

“So now you’re cautious of abiding by the law.”

“No,” He bit back, short but still staring at the pointer closing in on 98, “but this is my car and I’d like it to stay unscathed.”

“Funny, because I’d like the same thing for you.”

Ah, a conversation he thought they’d left over an hour ago. That was up until she dragged him out into his car, pretending she needed him to take her somewhere only to be saddled up - pushed over - into the drivers side and the central locking to be activated as she roared up the engine.

“He’s not going to hurt me. It just, complicates things,” Harry watched the scenery zip by, all an annoying blur as his sister disregarded all his requests to slow down.

Ever since the party, since Dylan dragged away and said he was absolutely sure it was him - Tomlinson, their kid, the first born boy of the family - he'd needed to clarify. Feeling like he'd been sitting on the edge of reason.

“Maybe it isn’t him sister,” His voice was a hum, sort of muffled behind the two fingers he rest against his lips as he lazily spoke his mind, “it would make sen-,”

“I’ve never seen you react to any omega or beta like that before,” He looked down, dropping his fingers with his gaze, “especially no human. The reaction was raw, unprecedented. It’s him.”

“The prophecy stated nothing about his family,”

“Doesn’t matter,” She shook her head, tucking a stray strand behind her ear before gripping the wheel even tighter, “it doesn’t matter about the details, it was never going to tell you everything, the how’s the why’s, it just _is_. We just have to figure it out along the way.”

“This makes it so much worse though. If it’s truly him then, how am-,”

“How is it worse? Why does it matter? We just have to cut it short.”

Harry scrubbed his face with his hands, groaning deeply into the confines palms before they dragged down and off his chin. “Fucksake’.”

“He is going to fall for you regardless of how it pans out beforehand, so whatever happens up to it is fruitless. You’re worrying over nothing Brother.”

“I know what you’re saying,” Harry stomped down his alpha, he shouldn’t be so rude to his Sister, “I do. But think about it, he’s going to be angry that I kept this from him, I can’t hide it forever. He _hates_  our kind, his family are dedicated to flushing us from society so when he finds out that he’s been getting close to one-,”

“-he’s going to pull a fucking 180 and realise that oh, maybe all wolves aren’t as bad as he’s been brought up to believe.”

Maybe. But also, maybe massively _not_. Why his sister couldn’t see the added complication of revealing his identity to him, the exact identity he’s been raised to despise, was going to be a massive hurdle was baffling to him.

“I wish my will were as convincible as your…”

“Look, we’re going to go talk to Dylan, we’re going to sort this all out and-,” She looked over to Harry, who was squinting at something in the distance, “Harry are you listening to me?”

She kept glancing over, paying no attention to the road.

“You realise all I’m trying to do is help.”

Still not listening.

“Harry.”

She went to slap his knee but he caught her hand before it even lowered and his grip grew bone crushing, “ _Gemma swerve!_ ”

 

 

*

 

He woke up somewhere he’d never been before. Somewhere he should never be and had no reason to be.

Hospital.

Blinking awake he realised he were laid up and, upon immediately trying to come to a sitting position realised why it were best he probably stay that way - his head spun and the contents of his stomach came rushing up with him.

“ _Ohhhh_ my gosh, okay fella,” A nurse was at his side immediately, rubbing his back gently to not encourage any more vomit, “it’s alright, you’re okay.”

Harry’s fingers gripped the side of the bed, his knuckles were turning white from the strain of staying upright. Through blurred vision he blinked to try and clear it, staring down at the mess he’d made of the floor between his legs.

But that wasn’t it, there was something tugging at his arm, a lead or cord or something.

He lifted his chin, not paying attention to the petite nurse coaxing him to sit back and looked at the monitor next to his bed. Then he saw the drip.

Anti- sickness. Worked a treat.

Surely by now the staff would’ve realised he didn’t fit the usual profile of patients. If they’d use any more drugs and witness how they clearly have taken zero effect on him it would be a definite pointer to his race.

“Honey, I’m going to need you to just lay down for me,”

After a few sobering breaths he decided to look up to his companion and came to three immediate conclusions. One, she for sure, had no idea what on earth he was and by the wrist band she wore definitely wouldn’t be stood there so sweetly if she did. He gulped at the navy blue anti-lupus movement band. Brilliant. Secondly, he really needed to get up and out of this bed, to find his sister and figure out what the hell has gone on and thirdly, he was going to vomit again in the next few seconds and after thorough review of point one - he really didn’t care that she was in the line of fire.

The minute he wretched he made no effort to move his head and heard her gasp when the front of her scrubs to soaked, littered with the remains of Harry’s stomach. Sorely realising now his mind had cleared some of the fog, it were that delicious brunch Marie and Richard had so lovingly prepared for him.

“Valerie, oh my, my,” A male, tall, middle aged from what Harry could tell from his weakened senses, “oh dear. Here, let me handle this…”

The two conversed briefly while Harry went about composing himself, lifting the edge of the bedding to wipe his mouth on. He really needed to get his hands on effective medicine. And the location of his sister.

“Harry Styles.”

He whipped his head up, attention sparked at the declaration of his name.

“Seems you’re a little delirious, do you know where you are?”

Inclining his head, he confirmed, stomach twisting unpleasantly from something other than sickness.

“And do you remember what happened?” The man went about taking his pulse, checking his temperature and scribbling whatever else down on his board, before dropping it into the storage at the bottom of the bed, “Your sister?”

“Is-,” God his throat burned, “-where is she?”

“She’s okay, you were involved in a minor car accident. Luckily you were a mile out when it happened and our team were a couple minutes behind you when the collision occurred,” He rocked forward on his heels, peering up to the drip with a soft tut, “appears you’re a little immune to our treatment.”

Harry’s stomach continued to feel uneasy. Nausea just a witness to the distress replacing its storm. His instincts were churning, uncoiling in the deepest centre of his being. Something wasn’t right. His grip on the mattress turned to steel with the Doctor’s following sentence.

“Well, not to worry,” He turned back with a placid look in his sea blue eyes, a hand that was a far too unkind pressure on his shoulder to be feasible, “I’ll be your Doctor, looking after you both until I see fit for discharge. Name’s Doctor Tomlinson.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should really control the length of these chapters, it's getting a bit wild. Apologies.

“Our cards have been marked.”

Gemma nursed the bruise carefully on her cheekbone, the graze that coloured her skin red and purple and everything Harry hated, having to endure a six minute long battle with her brother until he finally let her go, promising him that _she was okay_.

“Because he looked at you the wrong way?” Her mocking tone didn’t go down well with her moody Alpha sibling, who was staring at her so vigorously if it were a physical effort she’d have a matching graze on this side. “I look at you like I want to kill you most days and yet you’re still breathing.”

Side eying him she winced, applying a little pressure to the gauze on her neck, “Look, I think you’re over reacting.”

“ _Over-_ ,” He nearly choked on his water, painfully swallowing it before crunching the plastic cup, “are you mad?,”

His raised voice attracted a little attention in the waiting room. They were surrounded by other patients waiting to be picked up or the people waiting to do the picking up. A woman who sat with her young infant on her lap a couple of chairs down regarded Harry weirdly, pulling her child further onto her lap before looking away.

“Keep it down Harry,” Gemma looked at the few others who had shot odd glares at them and desperately tried to shush his temper, but it was a losing battle. He didn’t care for other’s regards, simply turning a little more in his seat to lean in closer - which looked ridiculous for a boy with his lengthy proportions and enthusiasm at present.

“He _knew_ , okay? He’s been doing this his whole life. An entire working lifetime dedicated to hunting wolves doesn’t come without a keen eye to identifying one.”

“Our records are human, nothing about us physically has shifted since we arrived here,” She silenced as someone walked past them, checking over her shoulder before continuing matching her brother’s space invading position, “the only possible tell would be the medication having no effect - and in the end we needed none. Your nausea subsided as did mine. So technically, it looks like they did. Do you understand what I'm saying Harry? We- are- _fine_.”

Vexed, he shook his head, “Nope. He knew. I know it.”

“Oh for fucks-,”

“How can I go round there now?”

“Where?”

“His home. How can I ever be welcome in his home now? How can I even begin to gain his trust? His Father knows who I am an- _oh_ my God he’s going to tell everyone,” The anxiety cut up his tongue, hand running through the thick tresses of hair, “he’s going to go home and tell his wife, Louis, his family - about the wolves he had to treat oh my -,”

“Harry. As your sister, the older and more attractive sibling, I am obliged to tell you when you are being an utter and outstanding idiot.”

“This has nothin-,”

“You’re being an idiot.”

He paused. Pointedly, too. Whether it were to calm an imminent, default response or to carefully consider what she’d said no one would know. But the way he looked at her, made her unease grow a little.

“Why do you always do that?”

An argument was in the air. Something beyond siblings clashing. She replied lazily, “Do what?”

“Look beyond what’s actually happening, the shit that’s laid out in front of us and just ignore the bad stuff and focus on all the possible or unlikely more positive alternatives.”

“Sorry for being optimistic.”

“You never face up to reality, always look for the good in things, in people.” He pressed on, still ignoring the gruntled stares he shuffled his bum, talking with his hands, “We find out about Louis, instead of realising what a big pot hole that is your immediate reaction was to go meet up with him. Next, by the law of Satan we get treated by his _father_ in hospital, the man who is head of house of the Tomlinsons, the man who is responsible for guiding, resourcing and teaching hunters and you think oh, no big deal, there’s no way he’ll know what and who we are even though we were _wired up to his fucking machines._ ”

“All I’m hearing, is that I like to look on the bright side and not expect imminent doom.”

Harry huffed, looking away for the first time. “You’re not realistic.”

“Maybe you should start learning from me huh,” She prodded his shoulder, “you might actually start enjoying your youth.”

Harry’s face was overcast with something then and it resonated with his sister, who forgot about the ache in her neck, the sting upon her face and the general ache through her bones to turn fully to him. She didn’t speak, just waited. His lips had fallen open a touch, had that look in his eyes that told you he were elsewhere for a moment, a prisoner to his own thoughts. Then he blinked, cleared his throat and looked to the small hand on his forearm, fingers dainty and nails black.

“Isn’t that a nice thought.”

She didn’t need to respond, her silence was his cue.

“Enjoy being young, the few years between presenting and becoming full grown. Learning your place in society, discovering yourself and others and your rank on the food chain.” He laughed, covered Gemma’s hand with his own, “No real responsibilities. Needing to know nothing, do nothing but look forward to finding your mate, the prospect of settling down and building a life.”

Her heart ached. She was powerless and she never feels it more than when these conversations come around. Applying a kind pressure to his arm, she found herself wishing such a small act could take away the pain she knows he feels so explicitly.

“You can have that too Harry.” Crying was something fought against every time. She took a breath, shaking her head. “Nothing is for certain yet.”

For a passing second, it was quiet. Too quiet. No one was looking at them anymore and Harry had long been still, stagnant in body but rampant in mind. Then he spoke, and she felt his heavy heart as if she were nursing it in the palm of her hands.

“We both know, Gemma.” He peered out the large glass windows, the automatic doors to the outside foyer opening for someone, a scent that were familiar entering with them, “And soon enough everyone else will too.”

Their parents appeared through the second set of doors and the smile was stretched, forced and a second too late for his Mother to not pick up on his woe before she jogged over to her babies on the far side. Harry was first to stand and insisted he was really fine, pulling her in for a strong embrace, nose nestled into her neck giving him a world of comfort and memories that will be there for him when the day dawns when nothing else is. When nothing else can.

 

 

*

 

 

He wasn’t exactly embarrassed about his decorum at the party, they hadn’t crossed any drastic lines really. He was just more surprised and astounded at his lack lustre of putting up a fight, at how easily it came to him to just _relax_ like that. Like butter on warm toast. He was loose and flirty and oh _god_ his hand really did go that far up his thigh now he thinks about it. What an absolute-

“So you pregnant yet?”

Louis jumped, face snapping up to his newly appointed company - Zayn.

“What?” His eyes readjusted to the lighting up ahead, having had his forehead nestled securely in his hands, staring down at the open book full of all the stuff he needs to learn and remember for tomorrow’s test yet all his brain seems to want to remember is how nice it felt to have a boy’s hands over his body like he owned ever square inch they breached.

And how much nicer it’d feel if clothes weren’t cock-blocking.

“Babies,” He spoke quietly through a loud grin, slinging his bag into the chair next to the one he was now occupying, “Harry’s.”

Blinking, Louis frowned, turned the page of the book slowly, waiting for further explanation.

Zayn sighed, “Well when I saw you in his lap, for someone who has a strict no kissing until the 46th date policy, I presumed things were moving quite quickly for you guys.”

Zayn laughed through the screwed up paper ball that was launched at his face, checking to see if the librarian was glaring.

“Funny.” Louis rested his arms atop the the textbook, “I haven’t seen you in four days and the first thing you bring up is sex?”

“Nah I’m kidding.”

Louis didn’t miss a beat, “No you’re not.”

“I’m really not,” With an upturned mouth he shook his head, deadpanning, “I fully expected to be given the lowdown on some extra-virginal activity but once more, thou has disappointed me.”

“Well, what about you? How’s Gemma?”

“Uh,” Zayn pointed a finger and Louis stared at it, “don’t be changing subject so quickly and expect me to just forget about your boyfriend,”

“It’s not really that much off topic Zayn and he is _not_ my boyfriend.”

“But… your children will be born bastards.”

“ _How. Is. Gemma?_ ”

Zayn squinted, trying to not smirk at Louis’ gentle blush. His tan complexion was good at hiding most tinges of embarrassment but this one was special, almost a customised shade for the sensitive topic of Harry Styles and his hands alike. “She’s good. Beautiful. Dazzling. My very own wonder woman what more can I say?”

Then he picked up, “Oh, actually dude, haven’t you heard?”

Louis waited for him to continue. He hated that. When people say haven’t you heard and then just stare at you, saying nothing. Like you’re the one who is missing out on the mind reading capabilities or something.

“About the car accident?”

Louis’ eyes widened.

“Yeah, yeah Harry was there too.”

Zayn waffled on about how the car was totalled but they both escaped with minor injuries, practically minimal. Gemma had been on the phone to him the night it happened, said they only went out to grab some groceries because their Mother isn’t well and their Father is busy, first time they’ve done a good deed in so long and this is what they get. Parents were furious. But the insurance is fine, the other party took full responsibility. Apparently the doctor was really nice who saw to them, said it was a miracle they were so unscathed.

Louis’ pencil had been drumming out a frightfully fast tapping.

“Dude, you okay?”

Blue eyes blinked, “Yeah-,” He gulped and realised how much saliva had pooled under his tongue, “I’m- that’s insane.”

“Yeah,” Oblivious, Zayn agreed, “I’m going round tonight if you wanted to come with me?”

“Why would I do that?”

His answer was almost too fast. Zayn was smirking nonetheless. “In case you wanted an,” The quotation marks he did with his fingers then really got Louis irked, “ _an excuse_.”

“Right.”

He should really go see if he were okay. All things considered. He had gone further with this boy than any other in such a short space of time after all, he sort of felt an odd obligatory service towards him. Maybe they were boyfriends.

“Don’t you want to see if he’s alright?”

“Zayn you just - you said he was as right as rain.”

“Yeah but, if you go round and _check_ , you know? Just looks good.”

“Am I trying to look good?”

Zayn winked, “Baby you always look good.”

“Okay.” Louis’ book was slammed shut, attracting a stare here and there, “fine. I’ll come. What time?”

 

 

*

 

 

“They’re two minutes away Harry.”

The boy had his back turned, buried in the chest beneath his window, clothes flying everywhere. There was a persistent low frequency grumble coming from him, something that hadn’t stopped since yesterday.

“Are you even listening?” Gemma stood with her weight into one foot, craning her neck to see what on earth he was looking for in such distress. “ _Harry_.”

With a slam that echoed and damn well ricocheted through the whole house, he stood up, hair at odd ends, muscle drawn tight across every perceivable part on his body and turned, eyes everywhere but his sister.

“Why didn’t he tell me?”

Gemma watched in curiosity, frowning as he paced a little then turned with interest towards his ensuite as if something clicked but then stopped, fingers picking his lip. “And… how could he do such a thing?”

“With _this_ ,” Harry seized his phone on the way past his bed, waggling it before throwing it straight back down, “he has my number.”

A pause that was filled mostly crippling nerves and dread, gave way to something a little lighter, Harry sighing and answering the question before Gemma managed to let her smile subside long enough to ask it, “Yes, I gave it to him at the party and yes we have spoken since.”

She nodded, still smiling, holding her hands up in defence.

“-but not much, before you start.” He added with a strong accusing finger, looking at her for a moment before turning back away and letting the former worry take over. “Fuck, _shit_ what am I going to do?”

“Well now I understand your relationship hasn’t strayed beyond minor curt introductions, physical fondling and electronic communication maybe it’s time for - and wait for this it’s pretty radical - an _actual_ conversation.”

Harry growled, threw a pillow with cruel force that she caught, “You’re not going to pick a fight before the love of your life walks through the door.”

“It’s been three days since the hospital, three fucking days.”

Gemma rolled her eyes, “Oh not this again,”

“I can’t do it,” He shook his head decisively, peeled off his jogging bottoms for no reason whatsoever, pacing the plush carpeted floor of his room, “I can’t talk to him how can I talk to him what am I going to say?”

She knew why. Obviously she knew why his confidence was off spec and his anxiety was suffocating the entire estate. But it was still a rare and strange sight to behold, something that she hasn’t seen since three years ago. It was uncomfortable to watch Harry lose control like this, see him fall apart over something so physically to the point he looked like he wanted to tear his hair from the roots. Alpha’s were supposed to have a resoluteness about them that carries their packs, that’s what they’re made for, it’s in their blood to be unshakable and formidable against challenges yet here he is, breaking down and pacing and chattering, breathing out of whack over one simple meeting.

“Okay let’s just… let’s-,”

“Woman if you say calm down I will rip your throat out.”

She swallowed, stopped. She would usually reply with jibing sarcasm but something about that threat felt concrete and far too real to test. Her brother was a force when he wanted to be and she wasn’t going to push it.

“You can’t stay up here.”

“As opposed to what? Going down there and- oh my god no, _no!_ ”

“He just wants to see you because of the accident, is that something to fret over?”

He kept picking items up and putting them back down. He opened a drawer only to peer inside for a second and slam it back shut, “Of course it is.”

The slap on his cheek was harmless, really. No pain, no real force behind it. The real question was how she got over there so fast, just a damn shock to his system as he froze on the spot, mouth open for a whisper then closed when said shock was soon replaced with offence.

She was short on options and it was the only thing that would get him to stand still. She stood a step back, nervously, eyes on his _everything_. Just incase he turned the wrong way.

“What, the fuck was that for?”

“You are an Alpha.”

Harry stood tall, almost defiant. “And?”

“You are one of the world’s most primitive, mortal predators,” Gemma spoke slowly and carefully, circling him from a safe distance, looking him up and down, “you are strong, you are disciplined, you are controlled and resilient.”

His wolf was in agreeance, rumbling beneath his skin as the words brought him to life, soothing his ego. The ache his animal caused his nervous system to endure worked its way into his neck. He turned his head and cracked it forcefully, exhaling on a soft growl.

Gemma came full circle and slapped some black jeans into his stomach which he immediately held, frowning with eyes a little darker than before.

“You’re going to go down there, you’re going to be charming and welcome him with good grace and be what you are meant to be.” She flung him another t-shirt, black, that wasn’t tatty like the one he currently wore, “You are the Alpha, brother. Act like it.”

Left to his own devices, he acted fast. Executing a shower, shave and teeth brushing all in under four minutes which should be impossible yet needs must. After pulling on some black jeans and the black t-shirt Gemma had thrown him, he rustled a towel through his hair to dry out the majority of the moisture, leaving it in a damp, messy defiance around this face.

He’d refused to allow himself to indulge in the sweet, subtle aroma he was met with upon coming out of the shower. Even now, as he paces the space at the foot of his bed again, attempting to calm himself he’s fighting it. Yet it was just as ruthless as his spirit, lacing through the oxygen he breathed until there was nothing else but the pain and pleasure it brought in equal measure. A thorn to his heart but a rumble in his chest.

This boy was to be the death of him.

All but slapping himself from the torrential rage he was supposed to be working himself _out_ of, he nearly tore the door from it’s hinges to exit the room, shoulders rounded and tense, tucking his necklace into his top as he cascaded the landing and jogged down the left staircase.

The smell was unbearable down there, the ground level of the house was soaked in nothing but the temptation of it. Every step he took he felt a fool, like he was simply a pawn in its sickly game of seduction. He cleared his throat, ridding none of it from his senses.

If he were blind or deaf it would matter not, because he needed nothing but that to guide him to where he would always return, where he was soon going to anchor down and depend his life upon, turning at the end of the corridor and trying not to be visibly shaken when he lays eyes upon the source.

“Louis.”

Hello’s, good evenings and all other usual greetings were beyond Harry’s realm. It was normal for him to greet him by his name and nothing else. Even on those few texts, there were no greetings just straight into it. Like it were confirmation that he was there before him. And every time, it would land like a nervous weight in Louis’ gut for reasons he couldn't explain.

“Harry.”

There was an amused lilt to his voice as the boy pushed further into the lounge, coming up behind where he was sitting. He bent his head back to see him stalk round the back of the chair, running his fingers along the top and Louis felt it as if it were his own skin.

Harry zoned in on the naked skin at Louis' neck. Too aware of it. 

Zayn and Gemma were seated on the three seater to the left, conversation on pause since Harry’s appearance.

“If I knew you were coming I’d have held off the shower until your arrival.”

Harry hummed, winked and sat down on the sofa’s edge next to the armchair he would usually use.

And there went every single one of Gemma’s worries; all that pent up apprehension wiped clean with one sentence. His flirtatious vigour was clearly lodged back into place and the proof was in the blush on the minor’s cheeks, looking up at him with wide eyes and lax lips caught off guard.

“He erm… he blushes an awful lot doesn’t he.” Gemma whispered to Zayn, who simply smiled.

Of course, Harry heard her and he couldn’t help but smile too, pointing two fingers towards the chair, “You’re in my seat.”

“Oh I’m sorry, mine was occupied.”

Harry’s head ticked to the side.

“You were taking a shower.”

Zayn was an outburst of laughter, clapping his hands like an uncontrollable seal as Harry glowered, amused, impressed and alarmingly aroused at the bundle of wit before him. Gemma slinked off the other sofa, passing her Brother to dip and clap him on the shoulders.

“I think that’s what you call, meeting your match.”

What a delight this was going to be. He’d been out sassed and out matched in a matter of seconds and his heart was beating so fast he feared it might puncture a hole in his chest because that’s exactly how it felt to be sat staring at this compact little, _thing_ , sat staring right back at him with that defiance. Zero threat present in his form, powerless against Harry in any physical way yet is so smart and so able that he may fall short in every other aspect a person can possibly fall short and Harry honestly wanted to hand him his heart right there and then.

“Zayn?” Gemma prompted his attention, nudging her head, “Come help me with drinks?”

He was up and out in a shot, message received loud and clear.

“It’s honestly,” Harry started, took his time to finish as he drank in Louis’ features, softening now they were alone, “so nice to see you.”

Louis may be a strong contender when it comes to cracking the whip verbally, but under that heavenly gaze, his boyish charm laced through every vowel and that gravel of a voice he turned into mush. An embarrassing pile of _embarrassment._

His line of vision rounded up from his lengthy limbs decked out in black to the skin that was available to admire on his arms, the sparse tattoos on his left side that he still hadn't had a good look at. He couldn't help but feel weird when he noticed the graze to the underside of his jaw, and the light bruising to his temple. 

“Stupid question because clearly, you’re fine but,” He looked back up, finding it hard not to smile when Harry’s was so dazzling all of a sudden, “are you okay?”

Harry leant into the elbow he were resting on the arm, lacing his fingers together, “Better than I were two minutes ago.”

Louis giggled.

He needed to get a grip.

“Seriously though.”

“Yeah,” He nodded, “I’m fine. Just need a new set of wheels.”

And actually, Harry did wince inwardly at the thought of his rover smashed up. It was a write off, nothing they could do to repair such damage. The more he thought about it, the more it sunk in that they were indeed, very lucky to have escaped with the injuries they did.

“Shit, yeah you’re already penny pinching,” Louis sucked in a breath through his teeth, looking to the surrounding room that were as big as his entire house, “dire times ahead.”

Harry bit down on his bottom lip, his two front teeth were endearing and suited him. His smile, much alike everything else on him was sharp and charming. Louis honestly struggled to find a more suitable word, the endearment was too head strong for him to ignore. He eyebrows peaked when Harry leant over and lowered his voice, even though they were parted from their former company by several rooms.

“Shall we leave them to it?”

Louis tipped his chin, “You wanna split?”

Harry, mortified, frowned at what he thought he’d heard, “ _Sorry?_ ”

“Like, move? Go somewhere else?”

Then it hit home, “ _Oh,_ ” The relief was real and maybe apparent as Louis gave him a strange look, “yes, let’s. Come on.”

An hour and 23 minutes later Louis had come to the absolute and insightful conclusion that Harry’s house is in fact, ancient. Far too much history and hidden gems to take in within an hour and 23 minutes. Yet the 19 year old was proving to be quite the worthy tour guide as he wove in and out of the rooms, sometimes backtracking if he lost Louis a few steps behind to find him poking his nose around a particular shelf or ornament or just, gazing upwards. Because apparently Louis’d never seen cellings so high.

Built in 1836, it was one of the oldest houses in North Vancouver. Louis learnt it was originally owned by the the Mayor of Toronto and has been passed down generations until it was put up for sale in the last 20th Century which was when Harry’s Grandparents stepped in.

It had majestic presence and was sure to impress anyone who stepped though the ten foot double white oak doors, yet promised absolute privacy on its land, desolate from the hustle and bustle of the inner city.

“I couldn’t help but notice the pool…” Louis’ nerve would soon get him in trouble.

“If I find your body anywhere near that pool, the police will find your body in the lake, understood?”

Harry’s folks had heard about Louis. Harry having accidentally slipped his name into conversation in the kitchen one evening, looking up to see curious looks from a new name. He explained he were human and casually wore it off as nothing more than an unlikely friendship. They were much more accepting of the human race, co-existing perfectly alongside them, much more peacefully accepting than Louis’ family were of theirs.

However. If they caught a trace of Louis’ scent in the pool they may flip. There are boundaries and Louis hadn’t even been introduced formally yet so, a strange human boy dipping in their pool may be crossing a line.

So Louis’ pout wouldn’t convince him otherwise.

“Oh look at you,” Louis’ squawk gave Harry whiplash, stopping dead in the doorway once he realised what he were cradling in his hands looking like he’d just uncovered a gold mine. “You were so adorable is that- is that a pussy bow?”

“ _That_ ,” Harry removed the picture from Louis’ prying hands, huffing as he took the smallest glance at it before placing it back on the mantle piece, “is a very old picture and I-,”

“No kidding you look victorian.”

Harry glared, blindly slamming the gold plated frame down, “-I was eight.”

It was a professional picture of his parents, Gemma and himself. There was another boy, around the same age as Harry and pretty much looked identical, standing between them in the middle.

Louis came up on his tiptoes to get another look, “Who’s that?”

Harry wasn’t looking at him any longer, eyes cast away so Louis couldn’t see them, he was stood slightly forward so he couldn’t really see much of his face just the sharp line of his cheekbone down to his jaw. Louis decided he quite liked his jaw, it may even be one of his favourite points of his physicality.

He waited for a response but there would be no such thing. Harry already turning away, head down and grumbling about wanting Louis to follow him.

“Um-,”

“And if that picture magically ends up on any social media I will set your house of fire.” Harry chuckled, privately humoured by how he maybe wasn’t joking. “With your family still in it.”

Louis didn’t return the laugh. Feeling it were wise to ignore the comment and the unanswered question. 

“But pink looks good on you.”

He jogged up to Harry’s side, peering up at him with wonderment, “I doubt there’s a colour you can’t pull off actually.” Dropping his gaze to his chest and arms he pulled a face, “Actually no, yellow wouldn’t work at all.”

They were walking side by side through the corridor that led straight to the foyer, the main corridor, Louis remembered that forked at the end into three. Harry rolled his eyes and dropped a comment about a particular pair of underwear he may or may not own, thinking nothing of it until he noticed the absence of a little feathery haired human at his side.

“Louis?”

Louis was biting his bottom lip. A look about him that spoke so much he didn’t need to, stood in the centre of the entrance hall with itchy feet.

“Pink underwear you say?”

"Um, yeah it's only like," 

Harry realised when it was too late.

“Louis if you _even dare-_ ,” His powerful voice belted through the house as he missed Louis by a hair's breadth, who'd bolted from his position and straight up the stairs, making a bee line for Harry's bedroom.

Giggling like a mischievous child who didn’t want to be reprimanded, he leapt over obstacles and almost ran straight into the door as he just managed to pull the handle and tumble into the room. He slammed the door shut and for a couple of seconds, rested his back against it, taking in his surroundings. Besides the pool, one rule Harry had was that his room was out of bounds, that was his own private space and he shouldn't go there without his permission. A rule that he would wholly, absolutely, 100% obey and respect.

After today.

He scrambled over to the drawers on his far left and hurriedly yanked each open, diving into the contents desperate to find a hint of pink. The door flew open behind him but he didn't pause to look round, he just quickly pulled at the next drawer, giggling even more only to be stopped abruptly by a pair of strong hands on his waist, heaving him backwards.

"No, no, no, _nooo_ ," Laughing uncontrollably, Louis starfishes out to stop him going back through the doorway and with all his might he caught Harry off guard for a split second and pushed back. Seeing the opportunity he wriggled out of his hold, slipped straight between his legs and scrambled onto the colossal four poster bed.

"You little-,” Harry started, watching with a faux glare as Louis made his way to the drawer next to his bed head.

Adrenaline pumping he rushed over and grabbed his wrist, twisted it to the back and pulled him up onto his knees. This meant Harry was stood fully facing the bed, with Louis facing the same way on his knees, legs either side of Harry's with his right arm bent behind his back. Harry was pressing on a pressure point that had Louis freezing in fear of his life. Louis' ass was also pressing against his crotch. A pressure point that got Harry freezing in fear for Louis’ life too.

“Are we going to behave?” Harry spoke calmly through heavy breaths.

Louis' chest was heaving.

"Ow-okay… _oh my god_ , okay I won’t-,” He lolled his head back onto Harry's shoulder, licking his lips and exposing that delicious line, eyes glazed over with mischievous glee as he stared up at him, “I’ll behave.”

Harry was regretting this position immediately as the stirring in his pants began, “Why don’t I believe you?”

He let go and swung Louis round, the boy remaining on his knees gazing up at him.

"By the way," Louis cleared his throat, gesturing around the room, "your room is awesome. Why is it so out of bounds?”

And it wasn’t an exaggeration either. The room was fit for a King. A four poster bed stood proud in the centre of the far wall, black covers with grey sheets underneath felt softer than his had ever. It even had plush carpeted steps leading up to it which Louis missed at first glance, only realising they were there when he nearly toppled over them on his way up to the bed. The furnishings were much like the ones in the study, and the rest of the house for that matter - traditional, mahogany. And it was big. A large venetian window which led onto a balcony which was mirrored with a sizeable walk in wardrobe on the opposite wall.

Ticking his head to the side the elder regarded him, perplexed, “Because it’s my room?”

That smell too. It was all Harry. Heady oak with the faint trace of cologne he always left behind where he ventured, you couldn’t lose him because of it. It was masculine and wonderful and just, very Harry.

“But why am I specifically not allowed in it?” He pushed. He knew he was pushing it and he knew how Harry liked to skirt around conversation topics on the regular so he _knew_ his luck would be wearing thin yet still he soldiered on with a wanton smile, “No dirty magazines in the drawers, no nudity of any gradient, no hand cuffs, no sex toys, no-,"

“-Why does it have to be sexual?"

Harry frowned and went to grab his arm to pull him up again but Louis was swift and shuffled back, leaving Harry's hand air born as he just watched him carefully edge further back.

"Because… I don't know.” Louis pouted.

He shrugged and continued as Harry pushed a hand through his hair, “What else could you be hiding?”

Avoiding Louis’ gaze had never been so difficult, the boy continuing, “You never talk about yourself, I know nothing about you apart from your name, nationality, height, breakfast preferences and the fact you own a pair of outrageous pink underpants - which, by the way I _will_ find and I _will_ use for bribery purposes.”

Harry shrugged, lips twitching, “Pink is the colour of rock n’ roll.”

“You're so closed off there has to be some sort of edge to you, some raunchy secret I just," Louis peered over at the pillow, "I just feel it."

Sighing heavily Harry clambered onto the bed, fully aware he was getting closer to the gun he was hiding under the middle pillow. Not a regular gun. With bullets that weren’t exactly military approved either.

"A, why do I have to be hiding something to not want you in my room?" He slowly walked his knees closer to Louis, until he was basically on top of him, towering over his tiny frame, "B, you don't need to know anything about me that you don't already. Never mind my… sexual habits."

Louis bit his lip softly, letting it slide between his teeth. Harry registered it, but didn't look. He was too focused on Louis' hand that was approximately three inches away from feeling the cold metal of the barrel of th- _too late_.

"Wha…," Louis stopped mid sentence and looked down at the tip of the weapon poking out underneath the cotton. He pulled it out slowly, mesmerised.

"Easy boy,” Harry held his hand out for Louis to hand it over, but he didn't do anything of the sort, just examined it and did the one thing that he did not want him to do - poised it to shoot, finger feather light on the trigger, “ _Louis._ ”

Harry rarely raised his voice, so Louis looked up and lowered the gun immediately.

“Give me the gun.”

“Why do you have-,”

“Louis.”

“But a gun.”

“It's loaded.”

Harry realised too late that the line of intrigue and fear ran coarse through Louis, and felt his Alpha rise just as quickly as Louis’ eyes widened. He chest bristled, that uncomfortable dip beneath his diaphragm lugged as his adrenaline worked up a storm. Just watching Louis run a finger over the barrel one more time, slowly, made him snap.

“ _Louis!_ ”

His timbre was off and Louis jumped, subsequently dropping the weapon onto the sheets. He was still wide eyed, but looking at Harry now, mouth running a little dry as Harry snatched it immediately. Clearing his throat he continued to dissemble it with a focused frown, “Sorry.”

“For what?”

_For my disgusting animalistic instinct of needing control._

“For shouting.”

Louis smirked as he witnessed first hand, how Harry was definitely more qualified to be handling such a powerful weapon. In one fluid movement he unloaded the gun, clicked it back into place along with the safety lock and closed his fist around the magazine. Louis was so impressed by this boy. Terrified, obviously. But curious.

"So,” Harry sighed, leant back to place the bullets on the table top behind him, “You've messed up my drawers, invaded my privacy, accused me of sexual savagery and most recently narrowly avoided putting me in an premature grave by playing with a loaded gun. Could you please now remove yourself?"

One of these days, his inclination towards _pushing his luck_ , is going to land him in serious danger.

"From where?" Louis shuffled backwards to make himself more comfortable, “Man why isn't my bed as comfortable as this… this is all soft and bouncy but like, sturdy at the same time? You know what I mean?"

That day, felt like it may arrive quicker than anticipated from the look on Harry’s face.

Harry did know what he meant. But he also knew what that uneasy feeling in his stomach that hadn’t yet faded meant as the mood took a dangerous flirtatious turn. He dismissed the comment and simply went to scoop Louis up but Louis seemed to read his mind and tucked his legs away.

Left half hovering over his bed, his upper body was supported by his arms as Harry sighed and gave this infuriating creature a pointed glare. One that he hoped gave off a clear message.

“I’m here now I may as well stay.” Louis shrugged, sticking his bottom lip out as he corrected his posture against the strong mound of pillows positioned behind him, freezing momentarily to stare back at the older boy, “Unless, there’s more lethal weaponry underneath these.”

“Right just-,” Harry, was not going to let this carry on any longer, “ _c’mere-_ ,”

He scrambled onto the bed and went about securing a fool-proof hold on the tiny being, only to find that with something so lithe and wriggly it was more difficult that he’d foreshadowed. Frowning, he tried his best not to succumb to laughing too, wanting to maintain his serious stance with Louis giggling delightfully as a minor wrestling match ensued.

It was embarrassing actually, just how fast Louis found himself on top, looking down at a flustered Alpha, "I want this bed." He leant into Harry’s wrists that he had pinned, breathing heavily.

Harry's mind was one big scramble, everything happening all too quickly for his liking; one minute he was there and now he's… well now he's here. And Louis was there. There were so many things he was noting and equally trying to forget. Like the fact Louis was _there_. Straddling him. On his bed. Louis' thighs spread wide over his waist. Louis' hands on his chest now, holding him upright. He could feel him, all of him, on his naval.

He was breathless, looking at him like that. Like victory were his and he was so cute with it, breath coming short and heavy, the flush on his cheeks pretty, his lips wet and smile playful.

Harry needed to remove him fast, but he didn't dare touch him while his thoughts were running along such an obscene thread, sparking a fire in his vulgar mind - soon to do the same in his pants. So he said the first thing that came into his head.

“It’s not that great, it’s supposed to be- um, memory foam but,” Louis sat back, which applied more holy fucking delightful pressure on Harry's crotch. He was using every last ounce of will power he possessed to not let his mind wander as he continued with an ugly voice, “- think it has amnesia.”

_Think horrible thoughts. Ugly thoughts. Anything but Louis._

“Seems pretty sturdy to me,”

He couldn't think about Louis, he couldn't get _hard_.

Louis snorted, “Clever by the way, I just realised what you said.”

_Don’t get hard._

“It’s just, I don’t know, mines orthopaedic because I run so, you know I’m active and need a good bed but this…”

_Do. Not. Get. Hard._

“…Yours is just bigger.” Louis patted the bed, still sat upright. “Bigger and better.”

Harry would pray to the God he was supposed to have faith in every damn night, the very second he woke every damn morning if Louis didn’t feel that twitch against his underside just then.

“Well,” Harry shuffled slightly underneath him and with a coil like manoeuvre of his legs, flipped them over so he was now on top, “m’sure your sob story has touched the hearts of many.”

Although this absolutely did not help the situation at all, instead magnified it as not only now were he in absolute control over Louis' body - the one thing that he craves like a blood lust carnivore - but Louis had now wrapped his legs around his hips seamlessly with a concerning expert hold.

It seemed to Harry that he was partaking in the world’s most infuriating game of karma sutra.

"Harry," Louis' giggling was wearing on his resolve, "what are you trying to do?"

Louis stretched back and flopped his head to the side, bringing his arms above his head to bunch up the pillows.

“Are you a virgin?”

"Excuse me?" Harry halted in his attempt to unwind Louis' surprisingly strong grip and looked him dead in the eye, confusion and panic taking him by surprise.

“You get so weird around sometimes," Louis went on to explain while their eyes didn’t leave the other’s and his hands rested on his thighs, “I think it’d be super odd if you were but I guess it’d explain a lot.”

Harry raised his eyebrows, not believing what was coming out of his mouth.

Then Louis did the thing, that _thing_ he does when he stretches and moans and Harry really needed to get out of this cincture in the following few seconds or he was going to lose that last tab of control he had over his body. He pulled up on all fours so he hovered over Louis’ - _tiny_ \- body and they both got distracted by his silver cross glistening around his neck, hanging in the small space between them.

Delicate fingers begun to investigate the jewellery, blue eyes hooded but focused, “Well?”

“Well what?”

“You haven’t answered my question.”

They were close enough that Harry’s breath was warm on Louis’ face, “What business is it of yours?”

The curious fingers paused then and those eyes batted up to his, “Tell me.”

“Tell you what?”

“Have you had sex?”

“Yes.”

Soundless, Louis’ mouth fell open and his eyes lit up. He wasn’t impressed. Expected it.

“Happy now?”

“Can I ask you something else?”

The gradual pull on his necklace wasn’t going unnoticed, Harry’s jaw tensing as he locked his arms in place, biceps tight, shoulders strong to fend off Louis’ intentions. “No.”

Harry would stand firm that he was choosing to remain in this position, that he was studying his features by choice and was entertaining this ridiculous situation because he wanted to play along. But he wasn’t in control and he was never going to be when it came down to these things. His wolf was bubbling away again, always, pulling him to the desires that he deludes himself into thinking he can forgo, even when they were wrapped deliciously around him, vulnerable and open.

“Do you want to have sex with me?”

A grumble in his chest got the faintest frown forming on Louis’ features, blue eyes slipping down beneath their connected bodies.

"Okay," He shoved Louis' now relaxed thighs up and over his head and pulled Louis up by his collar so they were sat facing one another, “this stops here.”

 _What the fuck was he doing._ He was feeding into this is what. He shouldn't be allowing this behaviour never mind such a conversation but he had; he'd let him drape his body all over his bed and talk such filth, all executed in such an innocent way it was cunning and calculated and everything he should already be aware of.

“What?” The giggling carried on and on and they carried up high through the air, thick and heavy when they landed in Harry’s oversensitive ears, already ringing with pressure, “Harry I’m just…”

He winced, turning away from Louis completely as the pain in his gut grew.

The burn was overwhelming. He hadn't predicted it to be this bad and so sudden.

His pain tolerance was high yet this stung like nothing else. Standing up was a bit weird too, almost when you stand up too fast and your world spins for a second or you nearly black out from the pressure inside your head, he had to steady himself to not fall over right there on the spot.

“Harry?”

Louis’ voice did nothing but make it worse. He could tell he was worried and that made him double over with the effort to stay put, his instinct to go over and assure him, comfort him despite his own pain, added to forbidden territory.

His lungs were too full and deprived simultaneously, his throat on fire, his skin shifting, palms growing hot and sweaty and the sound of that voice made him want to rear back and snap his own spine. The animal inside was ruthless today.

“Harry are you -,” There it was again, “What’s wrong?”

The symptoms were adding up. He’d felt them before. Since he presented fully he was warned about the ferocity of ruts; the pain and the gnawing sensation of his Alpha grappling to take control in the most animalistic way as his most basic urges flared. He’d had several ruts but none had felt this bad. His development through to his 19 year old self had equipped him with the knowledge that every Alpha learns, of how to manage a rut, to know your individual traits and your cycle. But this, this was different. He was shifting out of cycle, against his will.

It was a nice relief, the rush of small, temporary relief that came with the feeling of a cold brick wall against his clammy palm. The Alpha didn’t even remember getting to the other side of the room.

Aware that the other body in the room was moving and by moving it was closing in on his location, Harry knew he had to move. Through the pain in every corner of his being he had to shut off the space between them. So on a ragged breath he felt his way along the wall until he reached his ensuite, groaning when fingers scraped on his back lightly and screwed his eyes shut as he slammed the door in his face.

“Oh- um,” Louis stepped back, surprised at the slam, “um…,”

He leant in, placing his ear lightly against the oak to listen for whatever he could. He watched his fingers dance next to his face, tapping the wood lightly before they rest, “Are you sick?”

Yes.

Harry made a noise that really wasn’t literate to man or wolf. He groaned, the sound of his vertebra cracking against the door as he twisted the lock and slumped against it until his bum hit the cold marble floor.

“Yes,” His voice wasn’t going to get any better than that, his throat too raw from trying.

He sat, not a few inches away from the boy, his head lolled back against the solid wood, throat bared and veins angry as he tried so desperately to diminish the rage inside of him. His eyes burnt with images against the inside of his lids, alive with everything he knew he wanted to but shouldn’t take.

The heat in his groin was excruciating. And it only grew, now he was in a space that he could allow himself to let these thoughts in without being directly in contact with the person they centred around. He tipped his head to the side, pushed a strong palm into the heavy hardness between his thighs and hissed at the pain, eyes searing back open on a fiery amber from all the restraint.

“Oh my God,” Louis mumbled, hearing everything through the muffled visor of the wood, “can I… you think it’s PTSD?”

Any question felt absurd. _He_ felt absurd. There was absolutely nothing he could do.

Harry’s limbs banged against the door involuntarily as he arranged himself onto all fours, cock painfully erect, blood white hot and panting uncontrollably, aware of his volume and biting the inside of his forearm to keep it in the lower decibels.

“Harry.”

He sounded sad.

And that too,  _hurt_. Harry didn’t want him to feel offended that this ‘sickness’ had been brought on so suddenly with their contact, nor did he want him to dwell too much on the possibility of PTSD and feel guilty for pushing emotions around so soon after the accident.

He was nearly collapsing with the pressure, never before had gone into battle with his dual self and it wasn’t something he was looking forward to enduring in the future either. That thought alone made him whimper and he couldn’t help the sound escaping his lips before it was too late,

“ _Oh God_ , can't I do anything?”

Harry’s arms gave way and he narrowly avoided smacking head first into the floor, rolling onto his back with marred vision. Although now he were painted onto it, he found the pinch of the cold surface of the tiles was a heaven send. Sealing his eyes shut, he swallowed around hot air.

“No.”

His head was aching, a fire, a burn that digested all sane thoughts and catalysed them into something sinister and wrong.

But it wasn’t wrong. It wasn’t wrong to want to someone like this. Someone who he’s meant to be with. Rebelling against his body’s natural instincts for skin, for affection and intimacy - that was wrong.

“You sure you don’t need me to get anything?”

Harry’s lack of response wasn’t exactly ideal, so he repeated himself a little more loudly, “Harry, you’re positive you don’t want anything?”

“ _No_ ,” This boy. “No…”

Louis sat down on the other side of the door and sighed. He felt a little useless.

Shuffling so he was sat straight backed against his side of the door he let his legs lay straight out in front, looking to his socked toes and wiggling them, “Well, I’m right here.”

Harry could feel his pulse beat against his skin. He stared at the ceiling and its blinding light, the pain it brought nothing in comparison to that sacramental voice.

“M’not going anywhere.”


	5. Chapter 5

“I’ve fucked it.”

“No you haven’t.” The eye roll was _audible._

“I have, I fucked it. I have a month left until I go away and I’ll be leaving when it’s like this.”

Harry was a weight and half storming up the stairs two at a time, Gemma making a pained sound before following him reluctantly. It was her job, as the only person who really knew what was happening between the two boys, to try and calm him down and make him see sense.

“You’re over reacting again. I swear you are not half the Alpha y-,”

“Insulting me sister,” Harry’s voice adopted a timbre that no man or wolf should challenge, “in my hour of need is not wise.”

She may be his sister, but once again, she knew a line and when not cross it.

“All I’m saying,” She just caught the door he swung open singlehandedly, “is you need to give him time. You hurt him, you attacked his best friend and you’re twice the size of them both-,”

“Forgive me, but I thought your purpose was to try and make me feel better?”

Gemma only just realised he’d marched straight into one of the spare rooms situated in the front right quarter of the house. The room was a similar layout to the spare at the back, the one use for isolation during Harry’s ruts. He was busying himself with the drawers over by one of the far windows.

“You knocked him out Harry.”

He huffed, placing the envelope he had back in the top drawer with a prudent bang and turned back round, hands resting upon the lip of the cabinet. His eyes were wavering on a tantrum she’d rather not be on the receiving end of.

“He’s bound to be scared, but I promise, he will come around. Just, leave it for another day, okay?”

“My skin is burning with the thought of another _hour_ spent without contact. I need to explain.”

She felt for him. “You knew this would happen.”

His fingers curled further around the wood, long and strong. His only response was the low frequency sound that emitted from his chest as he looked down, frustration laced in the air between the two siblings. “He’s going to think I hate him.”

Gemma shook her head. “No. I made sure he wouldn’t.”

Harry was right to feel such doubt though, she knew as much. First meeting he was cranky regardless of the apology. The second he gets jittery and radically ‘sick’ within seconds of them being alone with one another and now this; now he’s accused him of something terrible and possibly scared him beyond repair with his conduct.

“But what if I can’t stay away?” He continued, looking up to her identical eyes, “What if he refuses to speak to me, even after what you’ve said. What if he can’t bear even looking at me and I get angry. What if I have another episode and this happens all over again? I want to see him so badly, the thought of keeping away now, after I know what it’s like to have him I-,” He stopped, took a breath. “What if I can’t control myself?”

“Listen,” She steps forward, immersing herself into the cloud of stifling anxiety that surrounded and took his shoulders within her grasp, “you will learn. No brother of mine will let his wolf or his dick take the lead over his better intentions do you understand?”

He chuckled, a flash of sharp teeth and a dimple was all she was going to get before he shook it off immediately, feeling guilty for allowing a moment of easy humour.

She rubbed the mounds of his biceps, trailing her hands down his arms and un curling his fingers that had burnt themselves into the oak, “Come here.”

Turning her head to the side, she pulled him into her, her ear pressed against his chest so airtight she could hear his heat beat and for that she squeezed him a little tighter, pulled him in even further.

They stayed like that for a long moment, the simple comfort soothing over any rippling nausea that was rearing it’s ugly head within him even if for this short space of time. Family carried security like no other, a fixed point in time that is unconditional, eternal. 

“Uh, Harry?”

He hummed into her neck, nuzzling a little further.

“You might want to turn around…”

But he was so comfortable and now he were here he remembered just how little sleep he’d accumulated over the past week or so and he really just wanted to rest.

“Like, right now.” She pushed him away, finding the growl that slipped out to be more adorable than offensive, and swivelled his limp stature until he were facing the window that overlooked their forecourt and front gardens.

Squinting, he adjusted quickly to the low light of the sun trying its best to come through the mass of thick clouds overhead and managed to make out a tiny figure, putting a thumbs up to the taxi as it slowly pulled around, a familiar shade of chestnut hair getting caught in the wind and an even more familiar pair of black converse trudging up the gravel drive.

Harry watched his approach wordlessly, unaware of his Sister watching his profile with a private smile.

He watches him, leaning forward to watch every step towards the building. Louis cranes his neck up to the house, scouring the face of it for, well whatever he was looking for. He checked over his shoulder for the umpteenth time and then finally took a second step, then another, and before Harry could shake out of his Louis stupor, there was gentle rapping at the door. His ears picked up on the small sound while he watched the act take place. The boy appeared so small and unsure, looking like he was a second or two away from running right back down the drive and never coming back.

Harry may have supernatural hearing, but their maid however, did not.

“The _bell_ , you idiot.” Harry smiled through it, speaking the softest Gemma had ever heard. And then the bell rung loud from the foyer and his smile faltered.

Gemma’s eyes widened and she turned her head, followed slowly by her body to look at the shock settling across his features. “Well, looks like you haven’t fucked it.”

 

_\- Two days prior -_

 

“You said _what_?”

Continuing to butter his bread, Louis stood with his back facing his annoying friend.

“Yes, I know,” He sighed, recalling for the seventh time in the past minute the excruciating embarrassment that came with the unfortunate reality of his tongue, “I know.”

There was silence behind him and he was grateful, slapping the lid back on the butter when-

“You _actually_ asked him that.”

“Oh my god,” Louis turned around, butter knife raised in his hand ready to yield, “ _yes_ Zayn.”

He trilled his lips, slumping back with crossed arms, “You’re a fucking idiot.”

Louis was quite aware of the level of idiocy he’d adopted. Quite aware of how stupid he was to be so flirtatious. It wasn’t like he were even going to do anything with him anyway, not really. He’d only just met the guy and things had already got off to a peculiar start so he really didn’t want to continue that form if he were to convince Harry and himself that he actually had any shred of moral decorum. It was just, so… There was something about him that he were quite fond of. Overly fond and far too keen to unravel. Just the way Harry looks at him sometimes, like he’s stripping every part of him he thought no one else could see, pulling back the layers of bullshit he paints on. It’s like Harry knows him and accepts him for everything he is and is not and Louis doesn’t even have to try.

If he ever actually told Zayn the ridiculous feelings he got around him, how he felt so at ease or the way his stomach seems to dip just at the thought of him he would surely be mocked until his dying breath. So, he brushes it off as just a ‘weird bond’.

“So unlike you though,” Zayn was at it again, gazing out the double doors to Louis’ conservatory, the sun a little blinding as it beat down on the glass roof. “He must be something special for you to be so willing to spread your legs on the third date.”

He didn’t even flinch when the plate was slammed before him. Just gazed up and barely contain a smile as he watched Louis wordlessly walk back around the counter to start on his own sandwich.

“We have been on no dates.”

“Correct.” Zayn nodded, picking at the crust until he added with a giggle, “Doesn’t that just make it worse?”

He ducked from the slice of bread missing his face by less than an inch.

“I was _not_ going to do anything with him, for the last time you insufferable dick,” Louis was laughing now though. Shaking his head as he arranged the lettuce leaves on one slice, “We were just having fun.”

“On his bed.”

Louis pointed his knife, “There were reasons.”

“Like the big one nestled between his thighs?”

Pulling a face that was less than flattering Louis looked up with disgust. “What does Gemma see in you again?”

Before Zayn had enough bare seconds to conjure it up Louis slammed the fridge door shut and raised his voice, “I swear to God if you make some awful joke about what’s nestled between _yours_ I will disembowel you with a fork.”

For the following hour or so, the warm afternoon sun provided a comfortable backdrop for the boys to lounge in the garden, discussing what they were going to do now break was over. School’s back, so that meant less free time, but freedom also came with the great chance of boredom from no structure in their days, which was alright for the first coupe of weeks but then it became monogamous. So in some ways they were happy to get back to routine, but Zayn had been droning on about not wanting to waste another winter. Preaching about how vacations aren’t just for the sunnier months and how they should go out there are _carpé that diem._ Louis held back a groan when he brought up for the hundredth time his and Liam’s plans to take a trip up to the cabin later this year, how he thinks they’d all get on great.

Louis came back through the doors from the inside with two beers, wearing a black hoodie he wasn’t before.

Zayn thanked him for the bottle and tipped his chin, “You realise you were only in there for five minutes right? Not five weeks.” He took a swig, while Louis took a seat, doing the same, “It’s still Summer dude.”

Louis shrugged, swallowing before answering quietly, “M’just a bit cold.”

“Why are you drinking an ice cold beer then?”

And, in all truth, he didn’t know. He stuck his bottom lip out looking down at the bottle he were nursing between his hands, tapping the glass with his thumb. “Dunno actually.”

“So you think you’re up for November?”

Louis liked Liam, he didn’t have any reservations over him he just felt there was something a little off about the whole trip. So much so he that he felt uncomfortable about it every time. He has excellent intuition and every time he’s ever gone about ignoring it there was usually a disaster waiting on the other end.

“Yeah man, it should be fun.”

“It shall be grand, good fellow.”

Louis snickered, leaning his bottle towards him, “You’re spending too much time with the British.”

“Speaking of.”

And there it is. There’s the ‘but’ in the conversation Louis’ been waiting for. He squinted at him, thumbs still wiping at the condensation around the bottle neck as he waited for him to continue.

“I may have mentioned the whole thing to um, Gem and that and well, she was excited.” The fact he wasn’t looking Louis in the eye spoke for itself. The apple tree over in the left corner suddenly of supreme interest to him. “Apparently they often go up there themselves. Like you know, their family and stuff.”

“And…”

Zayn paused, took one look at him and, “She said something about being up there at the same time.”

“Ah.” Louis nodded, turning back to his bottle. “And there’s me thinking you wanted to some brotherly bonding time.”

Zayn shook his head, cheeks full of the swig of beer he’d overcompensated.

“No it’s not like that, I genuinely wanted to go with you guys. But then I wanted to go a little more when I found out she’d be there.”

Louis kept his head down, lips pulled into a tight line.

“Look I just thought it would be fun. You know, Liam, you, me,” Louis’ stomach was already curling, “Gemma and, um, Harry and that. Could be really fun.”

Sounds more like communal suicide. Louis bit the inside of his cheeks so hard that if he shifted his jaw it would pierce the flesh. He kept his head forward as he nodded slowly, “Okay.”

Zayn didn’t need to know. Not yet.

“All I’m saying is just think about it-,”

“ _Louis!_ ” Both boys looked to each other, checking they heard it right. Then when his name was called again, Louis swivelled around in his chair, bare feet dragging against the patio to see his Mother’s head poking out from behind the door. “Honey there’s someone here for you, someone called Edward?”

Louis stared, side eyed Zayn who mouthed _Edward_ with a puzzled look.

“Uh, who?” He called back, standing up besides this.

His Mom waved her hand, “I’m not shouting Louis, come inside.”

Telling Zayn he’d be two minutes, he place his bottle in the shade and jogged back up to the conservatory. His Mother was talking about how his hair was a little messy, brunette, deep voice. Louis’ brows knitted together as they strode slowly back through the house, her hands waving a few inches above her head as she motioned his height.

“Has an accent too, British I’m sure.”

He stopped dead a few feet from the door.

She told Louis she had to get back to her office, leaving him stood there in the main corridor staring down at the frosted glass panel. The figure stood behind it fit her description spot on, the height the biggest give away.

He knew only one British man. And Edward was not his first pretentious name.

Gripping the handle he looked at it. The last thought was a conflicted one before he swallowed it all and revealed what he already knew.

“Harry?”

He may have known it, but his tone reflected nothing but surprise.

Seeing his face, that wonderful face with those fucking eyes. Seeing it all before him unapologetically radiant with the sun beating down on his back sort of took his breath away and Zayn would surely be splitting his side from laughing if he were a fly on the wall for he was positive his face said it all.

“Louis.”

Harry’s lips curved into a smile as his tongue wrapped deliciously around his name, letting go of a bated breath in anticipation for a less than warm welcome. He stood grinning stupidly down at him, his size an overbearing presence in the doorway like that.

“May I?”

Dumbly, Louis nodded, “Yeah…”, Then hurriedly stepped back, nearly tripping over a pair of his sister’s shoes, “yes, come in, sure. Yeah.”

His presence wasn’t buffered from any of it’s intensity now inside. Louis was growing used to how he just sort of takes up a room once he’s in it with his whole, lengthy self.

He arched his neck, looking briefly up towards the staircase to catch a scent of his Mother. She was far away enough. His heart beating a million to one in his chest at the possibilities his being here could lead to. Picking at his lips with long fingers, he clears this throat and turned back to Louis who was still sort of just, staring.

“Um, sorry for turning up unannounced.”

“No you’re not.” Louis smirked, warmth pooling into his belly at the devilish curve to those lips.

Harry’s nerves were still firmly in place.

“Are you at least going to tell me how you found my address?” Louis cocked his head to the side, pointing nowhere.

Harry was looking around himself again, hands slapping at his back pockets on a sigh, “I think it’s best I don’t.”

“Right. Awesome.” Louis was fond, but irked. He didn’t know whether to be flattered and endeared by such stalker-esque behaviour or extremely violated. “And your name?”

Louis pushed past him, looking up through thick lashes as he passed, holding that emerald gaze like he expected nothing less. It took a moment for Harry to break out of the momentary daze, eyes slipping to the sway of his hips as he padded down the corridor _barefoot_. He clenched his fist and followed the little enticement wherever he was leading to.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Edward?” Louis offered, amused.

“Ah,” Shit. Harry had used false information for obvious reasons but hadn’t foreshadowed having to come up with a reason to Louis, “Uh I just get nervous around parents. Incase we end up hating each other, I’d rather them not know me by name until things are settled.”

“Things are settled? What things,” Louis came to a stop in the kitchen, feeling Harry close behind, “are you hoping to settle?”

“Well, you know,” Harry motioned to him, then Louis turned back and his eyes had yet again an indelicate mind of their own, “whatever this may be.”

Louis hummed, checking swiftly to see if his friend was still outside and once he saw him still lounged in the deck chair, head lolled back and non the wiser, he let go of a breath. Raising his chin to turn and face Harry, he was caught short of breath when the boy was already right behind him and bearing down on him from his convenience of height.

Blinking a few times, Louis clambered his hands back to secure a grip on the counter, “I’m curious, has anyone ever marked your social interactions out of ten?”

Now Harry had located only one other member of his family, his Mother, and was satisfied she was staying upstairs and out the way, he locked onto the only other one that mattered. The scent that mutilated his will power, that sent his nerves into overdrive and threw all common courtesy and awareness out the window. His voice was a rumble above a growl, “Are you alright?”

Another thing Louis’d have to get used to - having his questions unanswered. Louis refocused, “Are you?”

“Hm,” The elder nodded despite looking like he were picking the question apart in his mind, eyes dropping to the parts of Louis’ body he would very much like to tear apart. “I am now.”

It went under Harry’s radar, exactly how intense he could be. It was in his nature. He knew not how to hold back when his instincts kicked in like this; all he saw was what he wanted, all he felt was his body’s pull ingrained towards the source of his lust, his pining. He could only asked to be forgiven when he mistakes the look in Louis’ wide eyes for awe rather than mild fear and discomfort.

He hadn’t realised he’d been slowly lacing his fingers between Louis’ until the boy raised both their hands, looking lost, “What’s this?”

Harry blinked, Louis’ features twitching when he did as if he saw it. As if he saw the change.

“I’ve come to apologise, again.”

“Making a bit of a habit of it young man.”

“Young man,” Harry squeezed his hand, “I am older than you.”

Louis rolled his lips, ticked his head to the side as he thought he heard something, “Yeah well.”

He soon turned back when those plump lips were on the back of his hand once more though, settling on the skin for what felt like months but were mere seconds and a flash of green greeted blue once he pulled back. “I was beyond callous on Thursday. I’m never usually so blunt.”

Louis’ eyebrow raising got Harry pinching his side, eliciting a giggle he wanted to bottle up. “Despite my recent reputation.”

He continued, leaning into his arms on the counter either side of Louis, imprisoning him. “I was incredibly embarrassed. Humiliated at how my body had betrayed me. You see I don’t like to be taken care of, Louis, I like it to be the other way around so when I got sick I felt uncomfortable and ordered you to leave in, a less than gracious manner.”

He felt ashamed, truly. Looking to the ground for a second as he relived the moment he shouted at him through the door.

“Can’t be the hero all the time Ed.”

Caught off guard, Harry laughed, throaty and loud and it got the corner of Louis’ eyes wrinkling in pure mirth.

“Okay, I deserve that.”

“You deserve a slap, that’s for sure.”

“True, shall we settle for a kiss?” Harry’s act dropped all of a sudden, smile laying thin and eyes hooded and focused on his mark.

This was most unexpected, despite their close encounters and Louis’ shock shone evident through the tinge atop his cheeks in the following seconds. “A kiss?”

“Would you like me to sample one for you? Ease you into it, I know you’re a novice at this type of thing.”

Louis’ turn to pinch him. Although he didn’t pinch, sort of slapped his arm. His solid arm. Both of them encasing him to the spot there. He felt small, knew he wasn’t going to get away without either complying or thinking fast for a compensation, but it didn’t exactly bother him.

Biting his lip he took less than a handful of seconds to consider. Coy and nervous, reduced to this shy shell of himself in under a minute he peered up at him and with a soft raise to his tiptoes, left a discreet kiss to his left dimple, a secret sealed between them.

Louis couldn’t see, but Harry’s hands fisted on the countertop behind him. 

“Must you be such a tease,” He angled his head, “my Prince?”

“Your cheek is a suitable substitute.”

“For what?”

Louis knew he were still blushing, so any attitude he wanted to have was fruitless. “You have to earn the rest.”

Harry studied his eyes, Louis once more dropping his own for it was impossible to maintain a stare in such close proximity where temptation was agonising. If Louis were wiser, he’d have questioned the rumble he swore just came from before him, the cracking noise from his side that sounded much alike bones shifting underneath warm skin.

“Your cheeks are rosy.”

The bastard.

“Well, roses are my favourite flower.”

Harry scrunched his nose, pushing back, “Can’t stand them.”

The short flashback that plagued Harry’s mind of the vision incurred last week tore through the moment they’d shortly shared, Harry straightening up at the torpid memory of a wolf that he still had no intelligence over.

“Roses?”

He rolled his wrists, Louis making an unimpressed sound when they both clicked louder than what should be natural.

“They look pretty, but thats how they lure you in. Get you to come closer and take a whiff, caper around with their petals but when you get close enough, when you finally try and touch, no matter how gentle, they cut like a bitch.”

Louis watched him make his way to the fridge, peering at the notices and pictures stuck to the front. He was drawn towards the deep dip between his shoulder blades, his dark grey t-shirt hanging off him like it were custom made for him and him only.

“Only if you try to up root it.” He watched as Harry traced two fingers, one of them donning a ring he’d missed before over the length of a photograph of his Parents on a trip in Hawaii, “Shouldn’t try and take what’s not yours.”

Harry paused, glanced over at the small boy. Something was accusing in his eyes that made him want to confess his every sin right there and then and it made his chest tighten, his palms steadily clam and his heart lunge. Blue eyes there was so pure had shifted and for once, he caught insight to what it was like to be the human for once.

“ _Louuuu?_ ”

The moment was torn beneath their feet.

Louis snapped up and cleared his throat, “Yeah?”

He waited for her response, craning his ear as he came to stand at the doorway to get a better listen, but the response he got were muffled and he rolled his eyes. “Sorry, one sec.” He waved a finger at Harry and took off down the corridor, leaving Harry still stood with his hand poised over the photo.

Dropping it immediately, he tried to rid the stupid feeling in his stomach, tearing open several cupboards before he got to the one he needed and ran the cold tap.

Gulping down the water felt like swallowing blocks of pure ice. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and paced the cup in the sink, pausing for a second when he picked up on another scent he’d missed previously. Padding around the counter to the double doors he saw Zayn, tapping away on his phone with a beer balanced between on his lap.

He huffed out a breath. No wonder it was familiar.

Looking slightly to the left, he saw the floor beds that looked like they’d been maintained just as expertly as his own back home. And among them, of course, were roses. Some blood red, further along more poignant and bright. He just wasn’t a flowery person. Garden’s could take care of themselves for all he cared. Nature should grow as intended - naturally. And roses served no point in people’s yards.

Scrubbing his face he rolled his shoulders, pulling his t-shirt down. He ran a hand over his stomach and sniffed.

Maybe it was rude to go wandering. But since when did Harry care about manners in this household when the one person that he were concerned about offending wasn’t currently around to be offended. So he pushed through to the back lounge, where a long table with a rolled up leather cover was tucked under the chairs. A candelabra sat nicely in the middle of the dark wood. 

He ran his eyes along the shelves of the tall bookcase that stood proud at the entrance end to the room, his height served a plus to see which shelves were regular tended to, running a hand over the top one which had a heavy layer of dust decorating it. The rest were clean.

“Don’t you think you’ve done enough?”

Harry dropped the plaque he were studying, something about ‘Acting class of 2012’. He looked back and frowned, bending over quickly to retrieve the item and put it back exactly where he found it.

“Louis. A taste of my own medicine.”

Harry smirked, amused with the knowledge of how much he hated it when he appeared silently. Which was odd in itself - he hadn’t even picked up on his scent. Nothing distracts him from that trace, nothing.

Louis wasn’t talking though, something weird about him in the way he moved through the doorway, closing it shut behind him with a vacant expression.

“What um, did your Mother want?”

“My Mom is dead, you prick,” The stoic features turned furious, teeth grit, closing the gap that Harry hadn’t thought to move from yet, “she is fucking dead and it’s all because of you.”

Before he had chance to move, Harry was thrown back with the force that he would’ve never associated with someone so small. Two palms knocking him backwards, spine colliding at a cruel angle with the window cill and he hissed.

“After everything, all of this and you want to bring me the same pain, the same suffering you fucking _vile creature_ -,” Louis’ face was red, the veins in his neck prominent as he screamed profanities in his face, “I _hate_ you! I _hate you, I hate you, I fucking hate you!_ ”

Harry grunted as his fist swung into his face. The impact was great, unexpectedly hard and he failed to react like he should, like he normally _would_. He fell back, his feet staggering back one, two steps, shaking away the dizzying effect. He chased the rush of adrenaline lining itself up in his line of fire and caught the next fist that was raised, squeezing his hand round Louis’ clenched fist, the other gripping his bicep to glue it to his side and growled.

“ _Louis!”_ The animal leaking into his voice right now was the last thing he were concerned about, “ _Louis listen to me-_ ,”

“I trusted you,” Louis voice trembled, strained with the pressure of tears clogging his diction, eyes bleared slits as they streamed, “fucking _trusted_ you,” He pushed against Harry’s might, but it was no use. Harry tightened his hold, twisted, secured it with strong legs and _pushed._

Louis landed with a thump, sniffing, coughing.

For a moment he sat still as night, staring at the ground beneath his legs. And if Harry’s blood didn’t stop thumping in his ears, he was going to miss that sentence again, “Speak up.”

He didn’t move, wanted to though. By God he waned to rush forward and collect him in his arms, rid him of whatever delusion or conscious nightmare that was playing havoc with his sense, but he didn’t. Thought best to stay put, hands ready at his side, eyes trained on the next muscle to move.

“Why did you do it Harry?”

“What have I done?” He spoke fast, clearly. “Louis. Tell me what I’ve done.”

Then Louis was up, pushed onto his knees and he popped up with a sickening crunch in his arm. Harry choked on his breath when he saw Louis clutch it, the limb hang loosely at his side.

“Is that- n-no,” Raising shaking fingers towards the injury he felt his heart pummel his chest, “did _I-_ ,”

“ _I hate you._ ” Louis spat his words, saliva dripping from the corner of his mouth that he cared not to correct, his eyes bloodshot red, “Two wrongs make a right, right? Sometimes. That’s what you said.”

He really couldn’t tear away from his broken arm - the arm _he_ broke, long enough to gather what he was saying, “I- I don’t think I’ve ever - Louis please let me see that, _please,_ ” He edged forward and that was when the door opened and Harry’s body went rigid, “ _Gemma?”_

Her eyes flashed with panic, a crimson trail running from her nose as she shook her head, neck straining as if she were shouting at him but no sound was coming out, her blonde hair matted around her face, grazes to her lips, her cheek.

Louis was smiling, turning around when Harry’s attention was elsewhere and grabbing the vase off the side. He smashed it with his good hand, brandishing the sharp edges newly christened and made a bee lien towards the girl. Harry looked at him, flinched at the noise but didn’t realise until he _realised._

“Wait, _w-Louis no!”_

He launched forward, long legs covering more ground in one second than most, but it was one second too late as his chest split, the oxygen knocked from his lungs when he witness the glass rupture his sister’s neck. He stumbled to the floor with her, Louis having slipped from Harry’s reach and out of the room before he could think. He fell into his arms with the shard of glass sticking out of the pale flesh of her neck.

Harry was shaking, unable to cope with the amount of blood spurting, overflowing from her neck, making their skin slip and stick in the most gruesome way.

“ _Gem-_ ,” His throat felt torn.

His eyes losing focus. His skin was numb and his world was spinning on a cruel axis that centred around no set point, he had no idea what happened, no idea why, no idea why his sister was lying there in his arms, losing consciousness by the second.

He brushed hair form her face, wiping away his own tears that fell onto her grazed skin, thumbing furiously at them to clear the smudges of blood.

“ _G-go g-_ ,”

“ _Shhh_ , sh, sh,” Harry shook his head, rocked her gently, “Don’t… I, don’t.”

He knew a fatality when he saw it. The laceration was too deep, the shards cutting through to the bone, tearing through two main arteries. He was losing her. And there was nothing he could do.

“I love you.” He mumbled softly, gently rocking her again, “I love you, I love you.”

Seconds passed and he had to watch her choke, violently at first then hardly at all, her eyes glazing over and her hand that clutched his two fingers so fiercely, feeling her every emotion that she wasn’t able to convey, let go.

He hung his head. Breathing steadily rising, dipped to place a blood stained kiss to her forehead, strands of hair getting caught against his chapped lips. And he let go, let her slump down gently, raising his head, feeling the rage bubble and build, the momentum too great to dampen down this time and he let out a tremendous growl that ripped through the air.

His throat burned with the blaze behind it, his wolf whimpering, his heart _aching_. He repeated it, utter grief towering him from above, crashing around him like cinder.

“Two wrongs make a right.”

His head snapped back to centre. Louis.

“Two wrongs make a right Harry.”

He dropped his sister, gently letting her limbs fall and rose to his feet, not entirely sure his knees wouldn’t give way but he rose defiant, his wolf taking over all other thoughts, no room for rationale. That sentence taunted him, the voice taunted him. That _boy_ , was begging for his death to be served cold.

Harry kicked open the door, the wood splintering on impact with his boot.

“ _Louis!_ ”

He rounded the corner, pushing through the corridor, eyes alight with fury, fresh tears drying on his cheeks.

He got to the kitchen and Zayn. Zayn was there.

The boy was petrified, scooped up by his collar and pinned to the wall disturbingly fast, minding nothing for his pain as Harry spat in his face, _“Where is he?”_

“Ah- a- Harry? What are y-,”

_“Tell me where he is!”_

He roared his command and Zayn could only fish mouth in response, his body going into shutdown at the aggression, the strength in his embrace and the amber glow in his eyes. The sun was playing tricks on him, the sun must be -

Harry back handed him as soon as he let him go, Zayn’s head slapping to the side on a powerful crack when his cheek collided with the plaster. He watched as he fell to the floor in a pile of limbs, chest heaving, nostrils flared, preparing to batter him into obedience when a soft voice chirped from behind.

“What the fuck is happening?”

Harry looked up, reared round and honed in on the human boy. His body turned with him and he stepped over the chair he’d kicked over in the process of seizing Zayn, chest rippling with anger as he saw Louis slowly backing away, looking between him and Zayn as if it was the most _unexpected_ , the most _violent_ thing he’d seen.

“Fucking _cunt._ ”

A solid bar of muscle blocked his exit back through the kitchen door, cutting him off at his chest.

In the same movement he secured Louis around the neck and swung him into the side of the cabinet, the plates inside rattling and crashing from the sheer force.

He tried to speak, kicking his feet at Harry’s legs but it wasn’t doing anything. Harry received each blow like it were a frivolous tickle, looking up with venomous resolve.

“I don’t know what sort of sick _shit_ you’re working off, I don’t know anything but I will fucking find out,” Harry was nose to nose with the boy, who was gasping around the air he could, both hands grappling at Harry’s forearms, “and when I do I’m going to come back and I’m going to kill you. I’m going to kill you and every single person you’ve ever loved. Starting with your fucking Mother where the-,”

“She went out,”

Harry regarded Zayn with a non direct glare, daring him to speak again unprompted.

“I’m going to find her, and I’m going to rip her spine, slowly, from her fragile little body.”

His heart was in pieces, his head nothing but white noise. His body was filled with so much rage he didn’t know how to cope, how to direct it, he was a 19 year old alpha that hadn’t finished his training. How the _fuck_ does one handle the brutal murder of his only sibling. He growled, teeth bared and bashed the back of his head against the cabinet.

Louis was knocked unconscious immediately and fell at his feet.

Harry’s ears picked up the sound behind him, peering over his shoulder, eyes amber and dangerous as Zayn’s finger shakily accessed his phone. Harry turned, kicking Louis limbs without care to clamber over to him and snatch it from his deceitful paws.

“Y-your sister! Harry I’m calling your sister,” Zayn rushed for an explanation, “I didn’t - not police, Gemma, she told me to-,”

“You think you’re funny?” Harry squinted, chest regaining it’s rhythm, “Do you think this is _fucking_ funny?”

“She told me to call her, said if you get like this, if you get enraged o-or spaced out of nowhere to c-call her _oh my god please don’t-,_ ”

Harry leant down, seized his phone and looked at his screen.

And his heart nearly fell form his body.

His blood curdled where it lay, falling from his face to leave him colourless, any tears ceasing the moment he looked towards the screen.

The ringing in his ear levelled out so to a small whine, all efforts made to focus on that mousey voice in his hands.

Raising it slowly, careful to not loose the connection he lifted it to his ear, fingers blood stained, rings alike. He stared ahead, looking at Zayn crumpled on the floor and cowering as he heard the familiar voice through the receiver,

“Zayn? Zayn, what’s going on - I swear if this is a prank call I am cancelling tomorrow night.”

Closing his eyes he let the sound of a voice he thought he’d never hear again wash over him.

“Gemma.”

His body suspended in the second it took for her to respond, mouth left hung, lungs idle. 

“Z- wait, _Harry_? Oh for -Harry why do you have Zayn’s phone?”


	6. Explanation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please skip this if you thoroughly understood the former chapter.

Hi Guys. 

With the amount of general confusion over the last chapter, I wanted to clear a few things up - in quite some detail forgive me - so hopefully you'll understand what happened. I would usually leave any confusion to iron itself out in the following chapter(s) but there seem to be so _much_ genuine confusion I thought a few words would be best. Some of you hit the nail on the head so great, excellent, but for those of you who didn't:

Basically the chapter picks up a week later, when Harry was 'sick'/shifting into his wolf at the end of chapter 4. Harry is stressing out because of something that's happened within this week, that we don't yet know about, saying how he thinks Louis is going to never want to speak to him because of the terrible conduct he's carried out. Gemma is there and trying to assure him that she's spoken to Louis and explained how he suffers from 'hallucinations' and panic attacks as a cover up for the real reason (we find this out in the next chapter) and that things will be okay and he'll come around. That's when Louis _does_ actually turn up and Harry is beyond blown away that he's even dared to come around.

Then the story turns back to two days previous to this ^, which is where we find out what exactly happened. Harry goes round to apologise, they have a little flirt, the relationship and tension is building but to Harry, no matter how may times he fucks up he needs to make it better, so he does. Then there's the rose comment, which is important as a backdrop to the main story. And Harry makes a metaphor(?) for why he hates Roses (flowers in general) about how they hurt when you touch them and Louis makes the comment back that, 'you shouldn't take what's not yours.' This resonates deeply with Harry because all this time, obviously, he's been feeling like this relationship isn't right, that their future is warped and they don't belong together - because of the prophecy (the secret) that he was told three years ago. So it puts him off balance for a second. Then Louis has to disappear upstairs to see his Mother. Harry, under the surface, is still slightly shook by the comment but doesn't necessarily realise it. At this point, he's ignorant to the power Louis has over him, the curse the prophecy has warned him about. Incase you missed it in the third chapter, he had another vision, with the wolf in the bed of roses? This was brought on by the crippling anxiety of finding out Louis' family were hunters. So back to the current time, his anxiety levels are up from the little comment Louis innocently made/being in Louis' house altogether and therefore, cue next vision. 

The vision, was Louis attacking Harry and his sister. Of course, to Harry, it's completely real which is why he reacts like anyone would in that situation, because he genuinely believes all of this has just happened because the hallucination is so strong. Louis' Mother doesn't know anything because she's actually left the house to go grab a couple of things, which is why she called Louis up earlier to tell him she'll be gone for an hour or so. 

We don't know why his hallucinations are so strong. He doesn't have a clue why they're happening. He only obviously realises he's experienced one when he hears Gemma's voice over the phone at the end and it sinks in, exactly what he's done. The next chapter he comes to the realisation that the first one - the dead wolf in the bed of roses - wasn't real either and from here on, it evolves and we will find out what they mean. 

So Gemma is alive. Louis' Mother is alive. Louis and Zayn are fine (just shook to the core) and Harry is beyond desperate to earn Louis' forgiveness and get him back on his good side. 

I hope this has explained it well enough and the rest of you understand now? If not, feel free to ask, always but I promise _all will be revealed very, very sooooon_.

Love, your forever friend. x


	7. Chapter 7

“Amber please calm down- _no don’t you-_ ,” Gemma grabbed the omega just as she swung round the banister, so ready to charge towards the door, “this is none of your business!”

Harry slipped past them, in his own world. He’d changed his top. And by change his top, he’d placed a grey hoodie atop the t-shirt he wore and wrapped an old black and white bandana around his mop of hair to keep it in some sort of regulation. Gemma liked it when he wore his hair like that, she much preferred the way it showcased his apical bone structure with his hair pulled away from his face.

“Keep her back.” He pointed his finger, voice short and deep as he checked himself once in the mirror in passing.

“But _Alpha_ ,” Amber wailed, wriggling in Gemma’s grasp, “he smells so nice.”

Harry stopped, turned, frowned down at the keys he were tossing between his fingers. She smelt it too.

“Who?”

“That boy outside,” She’d calmed a little, standing on her own, by her own now, Gemma ready to pounce at any moment. “His scent lingered for days, your Father was asking who it was, I know that’s him out there.”

This was an unforeseen difficulty for him. Their native pack were currently taking residence under their roof, as they do every two months. Usually they would stay at their individual houses, respective of families and locations but when Harry becomes Alpha at twenty-one, after his training is complete, they will move into the pack house up North and this was just tradition to keep the bond as binary as it were possible.

He enjoys the time he gets to spend with his future omegas, betas and the three alphas who will all be under his future reign, the bonds they’re strengthening over these periods of time are priceless, vital to a healthy functioning pack life. But Harry hasn’t roped in the all consuming authority that is needed to become a leader just yet. He knows not when to tell them to back down or leave him alone, acting instead as a very level pegged member of the pack rather than their future leader. And so when important things are happening, or Harry has to attend meetings alongside his parents they all rally around him later on and ask him what’s happening, something he should turn them away for, scorn them for prying into private matters above their grade, yet he does nothing of the sort and will happily nestle everyone in the common room and sooth their inquisitive nature.

So naturally, the news peaking that their budding Alpha is connected so fiercely to a human, a human that smells like that, they’re going to be right in there. Especially the betas. But being an omega, Amber doesn’t surprise Harry with her knack for pushing her luck when it comes to thing that aren’t her business. He would worry if she did anything but.

“He’s, um,” He’s turned full circle now, undecided on which direction to turn to first - Amber, the mirror again, the door? The door would be best. “-he’s a fellow student, just-,”

“He looks about fourteen.”

Harry’s eyes were electric, turning around to see one of his beta’s peering out the side window positioned next to the front doors, getting his fill on the peculiar human that had dared to venture out here alone.

“Roman move,” He thumbed behind himself, a little bit of gravel slipping past his tongue from getting impatient and more aware of the seconds ticking by, “I mean it, move.”

The beta slumped back from kneeling on the chair, a lazy look in his eyes but Harry could sense a back handed comment brewing. He watched, sighed and waited for Roman to pass by, slapping his shoulder playfully on the way past, “You and Amber, go to the others.”

He watched as Roman linked arms with her who was looking deeply betrayed, pouting and huffed as she turned on her heels, “Come on Rome, let us leave him to feast.”

Harry growled and Gemma launched between them, only just smothering the giggle alive in her throat at the horror stricken look slashed across her sibling’s face, “Alright, alright they’re just messing around, let’s just,” She laughed and Harry’s jaw turned rigid, furious, “it was just a joke.”

The bell rung again and Harry looked at the door.

And for the following few, bated breaths, this was all he did. Green eyes fixed to the wood, fingers twitching absently at his side. He thumbed his rings, a gold signet and the silver band his Mother had gifted him when he turned seventeen and begun chewing the inside of his cheeks, hollowing out his bone structure that didn’t need anymore depth.

“Brother.”

The only movement were his nostrils, flaring a little. She was quite concerned that he hadn’t blinked yet, “Hm?”

“Are you gonna…?”

She shifted to his front frowning when she was met with an infuriating vacant expression. Clicking her fingers she smiled vicariously, knowing he hated it when people did that, thought it was of the utmost disrespect to do so.

“What. Yes. I am.” He sounded like a moody infant, not a brooding Alpha, “Now. I’m doing it now.”

Pushing past her, he brought his hands up to his chest as he strode forward, cracking his knuckles as if this would make it all better, rid all the tension that had built for past three weeks. He’d surpassed the goal of the pillars, stretched beyond the point of the chandelier and placed his entire hand around the door knob, encasing the whole thing and breathing for a second as to not crush it in one swoop.

“Actually-“

He hated that actually.

“-don’t you think it’s best if I let him in?”

Gemma offered fruitfully, coming to his side with a gentle rub on his shoulder before she went about picking his vice like grip off of the handle. Her voice was reduced to a whisper being so close to Louis.

“Might be a bit overwhelming to see you stood there at the door, staring at him like he’s your next meal.”

Harry was about to sound off about what sort of animal she thought he was but immediately thought better of it. Realisation knocking any retaliation clean from his conscience.

“Right.” He nodded, stepped back. “I’ll - do you think I should wait in the lounge?”

She nodded, shook a few fingers through her shoulder length hair and replaced his grip on the handle with a hushed, “Yeah, perhaps get some drinks prepared? Marie is in the kitchen so, I’ll come find you.”

 

*

 

It was an hour. An _hour_ , before Harry heard anything at all from either parties. Roman had wandered into the lounge at one point, from the lure of fresh coffee and his Alpha, enough to get him slumping down next to him for ten minutes, hinting for the comfort of his embrace.

Harry gave it to him. Growing up around four different packs he’d become used to the different dynamics and intimacies. It didn’t vary much; all members wanted and angled for the same bouts of affection from their Alphas. Over the years it’d grown second nature to have his omegas drape themselves over him at any one time, nuzzle into his body for warmth, the feeling of protection that could come from him and him only. Gender mattered not, he was the crux of their salvation and often found himself waking up to several omegas and on the rare occasion a beta, curled up all around him on his mattress sound asleep.

So Harry allowed Roman to fall onto him, stretch out his legs, as he ran affirming fingers across the bare skin on his arm, over his shoulders, only touching sighting on his neck. If he showed too much attention to it or applied any pressure he wouldn’t be able to get rid of him.

Half an hour later Harry sat in the lounge alone, upright and rigid in the armchair he claimed were his the day Louis perched upon it. There was a large cup of coffee on the table in front of him, it was stone cold and full to the brim as he hadn’t even touched it. It were his third refill from Marie who’d flitted in and out with a fresh roast on a silver tray every twenty minutes.

His foot was tapping, knee jogging impatiently.

Several times he’s gone to run his fingers through his hair and every time he groaned, tsking when _every_ time he nudged his bandana.

Each passing minute spent alone was a test to his character. He was left to listen to nothing but the gentle twitter of classical music coming from deeper inside the house, probably where his pack were located, the grandfather clock ticking, stood imposing and daunting with it’s impeding sound on the far left ridge of the room.

He felt sick. He’d wanted to be physically sick several times over the past few days when it’d sunk in exactly what’d happened. The shock settled and still was, still present in the tremble of his fingers that he cracked his knuckles to rid, in the haggard inhales he took to render his nerve.

But then there was a gentle interruption to his vile thoughts and his eyelids peeled back, slowly to make sure his mind wasn’t playing a nasty trick and then completely, blinking rapidly when that divine scent infiltrated his higher intelligence.

He stood up, knees cracking, back _painful_ yet it hindered nothing in his bid to stand to attention.

“Louis.”

He were alone. Small in the high doorway to the room, fist still raised for the knock he never needed to execute.

“Come in, please.” He didn’t want to come off too strong, didn’t know how to convey anything but what laid heavy in his heart, he’d never had to act like this before, “Here.”

He made his way around the chair he occupied and motioned for Louis to sit in it.

It isn’t without trepidation, but Louis was putting on a good front, even offered the Alpha a smile in passing. It was small and it was perhaps more feigned than preferred, but it was more than Harry was expecting so he basked in it, tipping his chin to Marie who’d appeared at the doorway for more coffee.

The drink arrived before either spoke. Harry sat not even on the cushion of his seat but on the edge, half on - half off like he was readying himself to take off, hands rolling around and cracking the air from his knuckles for the countless time.

Louis didn’t mean it to sound sarcastic when he cleared his throat, but it broke the silence after Marie had waddled in and immediately back out sensing her presence unwelcome. Harry immediately looked up to the noise. However that was an eye contact Louis found difficult, awkward to hold and looked straight back down to his hands.

This was ridiculous.

“Do you- would you-,” His caveman communication tickled his temper, “cake?”

He pointed to the freshly baked delicacy, eyebrows raised despite his inner turmoil.

The twitch upon Louis’ lips then was paramount to Harry’s nerves, as he nodded curtly with a rasped, “Please.”

Offering him a neatly cut slice of what appeared and smelt like salted caramel and chocolate gateau, he quickly declined when Louis asked if he were going to have some too, the thought of eating a similar feeling to sucking nettles right now.

Harry watched as Louis sweetly accepted the dish, wondering if it’d be inappropriate to break out the whiskey.

“Look, whether it takes all night, all of tomorrow and the next day too, for you to begin to consider placing even an ounce of your trust in me again I don’t care.” Harry was impossibly further off of his seat, barely a cheek remained on it as he spoke with his hands wide, eyes wider. “You must have so many questions, so nervous I cannot imagine.”

Louis’ jaw froze around a mouthful of his chocolate cake, a little crumb sticking to the side of his mouth.

“I don’t care how long it takes,” Harry continued, strangely drawn to that little crumb until Louis’ tongue whipped it away, “whatever you want to know, I can explain, however long you need I will accept.”

Harry rolled his lips to keep from cooing at Louis desperately trying to finish his mouthful so fast he he had to hover his fingers over his mouth as he gulped hard and spoke a little muffled.

“Your sister’s told me everything.”

Well.

“She has?” Harry sounded surprised at first, maybe even a little too lightly, _maybe,_ feeling a little grateful that she’d gone about soothing this whole thing over for him so he wouldn’t have to face the brunt of it. Then he remembered what a sarcastic, clever, twisted little brat she could be at times and repeated himself, side eyeing Louis, “She has.”

Louis snorted, forking the fluffy mixture around his porcelain plate, “Don’t sound too alarmed Harry, it’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

Oh for the love of God what has she said.

“What did she say?”

He was unaware how hard he was frowning. If he were he’d have been afraid of intimidating Louis from the pressure of a gaze it brought along but Louis being Louis, found it more endearing over intimidating and giggled again. “About your panic attacks?”

“And…”

She’s stuck to the story so far, but didn’t trust her to not throw in some embarrassing side twist.

“ _And_ ,” Louis scooped another serving into his mouth, moaning briefly around it, “…she said your hallucinations are vivid, unprompted and unexplainable.”

He nodded. Went to crack his knuckles again, avoiding eye contact due to the conscious lies snaking venomously around their relationship already. He leant forward and took a long gulp of his coffee, wincing only a little at the burn before placing it softly down. “Right.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

It just smacked Harry in the face that he hadn’t even apologised yet.

“I’m sorry.”

“Why didn’t you tell me,” Louis repeated, putting his plate down before shuffling back into the armchair that was far too large for his proportions, “about your condition?”

“No, no I mean I’m sorry.”

Louis was inoffensive when he pulled a face, “What?”

“I haven’t even apologised for what I did I’m so, very, truly…,” And only then, when Louis repositioned to rest his head of the side of the chair, did Harry see the faint bruising to his jugular.

Green eyes lingered and Louis was oblivious, simply confused. “Don’t be. I get it I’m just a little annoyed I guess, that you kept it from me knowing it could end up being potentially dangerous. It’s not something to be embarrassed about. You’re not embarrassed are you?”

It wasn’t going to be easy for Harry to rid the image from his mind; the purple splatter of abuse on a neck that should be riddled with colour only from the most territorial display of affection. The image scorned the inside of his eyelids, there to remind him every time he tried to befriend rest just what he’s capable of. To remind him of the misfortune this boy is unknowingly destined for.

“I didn’t want you to think any worse of me than what you already did.”

Louis shrugged, “I’m always going to think you’re a bit of dick regardless.”

Harry’s glare made him smile a little wider, bringing his head back up from the chair rest, “You’re a royal prick and an even bigger idiot. It’s not your fault you’re like this Harry, how could I think bad of you for something you can’t control?”

So much truth and deceit was colliding. No he couldn’t control it and no perhaps the reality of it wasn’t his fault either. But keeping the truth from Louis, that was. And that’s what killed the man.

“I’m not afraid of you.”

Harry raised his hung head, shoulder blades prominent from the dip, fingers stopping their nervous fiddling, all thoughts coming to a dead stop at what was just said. There were few things Harry couldn’t reveal about himself, traits that he had to pull back on and buffer until the inevitable day dawns that it becomes impossible to hide but they all still lingered under the surface. Especially abilities like picking up on the elevation of heart beats.

“Say again?”

Louis rolled his eyes, “You don’t believe me do you?”

“N-no, it’s not- you’re not afraid of me?” Harry held out his hand, fingers twitching to a soft point, lips left open a crack as he numbed all other senses just so he could-

“Nope.”

The skip in his pulse was definite. He was lying.

His own heart picked up, not quite sure how to feel about this new information. It wasn’t so much the idea that he were in fact afraid of him - Harry expecting as much from their brief but explosive history - but what roused his curiosity was how he were lying about it so confidently. So seamlessly that it would go pass any human undetected, an ease of belief with how relaxed Louis was presenting.

Why would he want to come across like this?

If given the chance Harry would rather die than give up his race, his abilities that came with the supernatural. It’s who he is. But times like these, he questioned whether the foundation of ignorance that came with being merely human really was a more peaceful existence.

“You want to make it up to me?”

“Yes.”

Embarrassment was beyond Harry by nature, not missing a beat in answering, looking at Louis like it were obvious and he were stunned he even had to ask.

“Okay, good,” He giggled again as he untangled himself from the chair and Harry took a breath, licking his lips, “good. And you’re willing to do whatever?”

“Absolutely.” Harry held out his palms, waved them, “Anything.”

“Teach me how to shoot.”

Never in his nineteen years, rapidly closing in on twenty, has Harry ever been so unprepared for a human or living being than what he is now, staring dumbly at him like he’d suggested something far more vulgar and indecent. “Shoot?”

“Shoot.” Louis replied with a tight nod, sipping some of his coffee to be polite - he hated the stuff.

“Shoot what?”

And Louis was already up, dusting down his black jean shorts, “Don’t play dumb Styles. The forest is practically your back yard it’ll be fun.”

Offended by default Harry rose too, Louis not put off in the slightest by those few inches he secured over him.

“To clarify.”

Louis sighed and peered up, trying to smother a wince at the pull in his neck, “Yep?”

Harry watched as Louis fingers did that delicate dance on his fringe, fixing and adjusting the perfectly dishevelled, soft mess it always was. “You find out I suffer from violent hallucinations, are still bearing the physical proof of said violent hallucinations,” Harry didn’t look to his neck for his own sanity, “hold the firm knowledge that I own a firearm and are perfectly comfortable asking me to teach you how to use this deadly weapon, alone, in the woods.”

“Do you want me to forgive you or not?”

“But you said-,”

“ _Do you want me to forgive y_ -,” The sentence went unfinished as a large hand pinched his side and he curved to try and dodge its attacks, twisting his torso as the boy lunged for his middle, “Harry stop!”

Naturally, the Alpha didn’t oblige, and lifted Louis with ease once he’d grappled his middle half and swung him over his shoulder, giggling relentlessly against his kidnapping. He bound a strong arm round his knees to keep him in place as he charged from the room and through to the front of the house, right up the stairs which made the poor boy hiccup from the motion and straight down a corridor he recognised form his last visit.

“Right.” Harry threw him down on the bed, assured his landing would be soft and harmless, and turned with no further word to go to his ensuite leaving the door wide open.

Louis sat up on his hands, rearranging his hair once more as he peered across the room. It seemed bigger the last time he were here. “Thought this room was strictly _forbidden_.”

The sarcasm didn’t go a miss.

“Well,” Harry’s voice was echoed from the nature of room he were in, “you didn’t give a hoot last time so.”

Now out of sight of the aggressor, Louis were able to tend to the ache in his neck. It hurt to apply any direct pressure to the bruising but he found if he rubbed the areas around it it eased some of the tension that was building there, not having been able to turn his neck without pain for two days straight he’d tried his best to keep it forward. He rolled his head slowly, gritting his teeth through the pain and stopped when he heard the sound of water running. Or, what he thought was water.

“Ha-,” Then he heard it, “Harry are you _peeing_?”

It took a moment.

“Yes?”

“With the door just, open?”

“Can you see me?”

Louis dropped his hand, sat there bewildered on the bed just staring at the large ajar door.

“Well, no, but, that’s not really-,”

The flushing cut him off and Louis ran his tongue along his top teeth, shaking his head. Moments later Harry appeared back through the door patting his hands on his jeans with a raised eyebrow directed nowhere but the boy parked on his bed, looking tinier than he’d even seen anyone look. Looking like he belonged.

“Ready?”

Among the kidnapping and the pee fiasco Louis’d forgotten why he was there in the first place. He licked his lips in protest for the smile that tickled to not form, watching Harry as he readjusted the bandana in his hair quickly and opened up a draw with a lock but needed no key, right on the bottom of his far left drawers.

“For what?”

Not a breath later did Harry rear back up, pushing the drawer close with his foot and a mechanical sound brought back Louis’ memory.

Harry checked there was no ammo in the barrel and closed his fist around the pack of bullets when he were satisfied, tucking the gun in the back of his trousers as if it were second nature.

“Oh,” Louis lifted his head, unwilling to reveal how he may be a little more scared now the prospect of learning to shoot a hand gun was actually real and happening, “right.”

 

 

*

 

"You're holding it wrong."

"I'm holding it exactly the way you told me to hold it."

"Louis.”

"What?"

"You're holding it wrong."

Louis huffed and let his arms fall to his side, a loose hold on the gun in his left hand. He squinted at Harry, chewing the inside his cheek, “How then?"

Harry hopped off the rock and walked right up to him, taking the gun from his hand without asking and poising it straight ahead, right hand holding the handle, arm strong and straight, the left bent slightly and cupping the other, holding it steady.

"Your arm wasn't bent enough, see how mine’s positioned… if you shoot like this, you have a good chance at a clean shot," he lowered his head slightly, focused and pulled the trigger.

Bullseye.

Louis jumped, blinking. He smiled.

"Now, if you shoot how you were holding," He fired again, missing by a good few inches, "see the recoil? Not only will you miss your target, but the recovery time after the shot has been fired will be longer because you weren't braced for the impact."

“What’s a few inches though, really?”

Louis immediately regretted even asking. Harry had told him how he came about to learn how to handle fire arms in the first place, about how hunting ran in their family and his Grandfather served in the military so naturally, it's been passed down forever, instilled since birth how to handle everything from a rifle to a fifty calibre hand gun. Harry cringed when nothing else came to mind other than 'hunter', avoiding looking to the small boy at all costs. 

"When it matters,” Harry pointed, “those inches can be the difference between life and death."

He made a fair point, so Louis took hold of the firearm again lifting it to eye level and refocused on the target. He repositioned his feet into the default shooting stance and was a split second from shooting before Harry interjected,

"Now you're standing wrong."

Louis mumbled something under his breath in French and made a point of staring at Harry.

"You know the word for bastard is very similar in Spanish," Harry stood slightly to the side, but just behind him and placed his hands on his waist, the thin material of Louis' top allowing him to feel the tight muscles beneath.

"Don't lean back… " He ran a hand up his back and held him in place when he felt his spine straighten out, "rookie mistake leaning back when firing. Strains your spine and provides a messy aim."

Louis was listening but was too aware of Harry's hands. They were big and warm, resting on his upper back and now his stomach. He knew they were there for a purpose but his mind was focusing on an entirely different trigger.

"Okay,” But then he let go and stepped back to give him the room required, "strengthen your core, shoulders relaxed,” Louis obeyed. “Good. Aim, focus and…,"

The trigger was pulled, echoing through the thin air, the trees taking the aftershock. Behind him, Harry’s smile was small but dimpled, unable to keep the admiration from his voice when he spoke quietly, “Bullseye."

Louis tried not to beam with pride when he made a victorious sound and punched his fists in the air.

“Second shot and bullseye!” He turned to Harry who gave him a small applause, “And you were nervous about introducing me to guns, pfft,” Louis rolled his eyes while swinging the gun round on his finger.

Harry grabbed his arm still in a flash, causing Louis to nearly fall off balance.

He uncoiled the gun from Louis' fingers, sighed as he firmly flicked the safety pin on. “Can't possibly think why."

After an hour or so of gun training in intermittent rain and overcast clouds it was now four in the afternoon and the weather had taken a sudden turn for something even worse. Sun. Hot, dry, sun. ' _In the middle of August!'_ Louis had exclaimed, baffled about the wild temperature of the exterior. In a matter of twenty minutes the clouds disappeared, the grounds dried up and the unforgiving sun tore down on them, making it increasingly difficult to even breathe from the humidity.

“Last time I checked this was Canada,” Louis was stretched out on the lounger, readjusting the wet flannel on his forehead, “not Nevada.”

Harry rolled his eyes at the drama of it all.

“Thought you said you were a citizen of the world.”

“I am.” Louis’ pout was beyond adorable, especially when it was the only thing visible on his face from the ridiculous cloth he had on it. His frown was evident though, even when it were covered.

“Easily accustomed to any weather.”

But Harry’s smile, could be heard just as easily and Louis whipped the cloth right off, his hairline slightly damper than the rest, “What are you trying to say Styles?”

“Well you drone on about how you train no matter the weather and yet here you are,” Shamelessly he dragged his eyes up his body because he could, “inside, panting in the shade after it’s hit seventy out.”

Louis was sat up now, wobbly at first but it was ignored by both parties and Harry was thoroughly amused, wanting this reaction and loving every stubborn wave of annoyance steaming off of him.

“Fyi, it’s the humidity that’s kicking my ass, not the heat.”

Harry shrugged, turning away and squinting out at his back yard, “Sure.”

“Alright big guy let’s go.”

Harry still didn’t move when he replied, “Where?”

“Outside, now. Let’s go run.”

"You're kidding right,” Harry sounded bored. Bored yet still infuriatingly exhilarated at his display and Louis was stood, which snatched the Alpha’s attention straight away, having Louis’ hips directly to his side, “Where are you going?”

Not a minute later, neither one to stand down a challenge, they were outside. Harry had suggested they hike back over to the lake, through the forest so they can catch the shade for the meantime - because obviously deep down he was concerned that Louis was obviously putting up a front and couldn’t _actually_ handle too much heat.

And the games began.

Time had become a bottomless pit and both had lost track. Harry had taken the lead with laps and was about two miles in, alone, drenched in sweat and looking godlike with the layer of sweat coating his body. Louis on the other hand was struggling for breath, mentally planning Harry's death and in absolute, crippling pain.

Harry’s back niggled as it always did but he knew there was no way he’d be giving in before Louis. He was considering it, for his identity’s sake, as no human would be able to realistically keep up this pace in this heat for this long without a break but also for Louis’ very sensitive ego.

But not just yet. He was living off the exhaustion far behind him. Wallowing in the satisfaction it brought of proving him right. Maybe it was an Alpha thing. And maybe Harry didn’t particularly enjoy these traits about himself, things that are the seg-way to cruelty, but for now, he wasn’t overly concerned.

Louis was just as stubborn. Behind and as pointless as this really was, he wasn’t going to pack it in until he reached the next mile. If he even reached the next mile. Louis’ thigh was stirring up a storm in his resilience. It was an old injury from a few years ago, something that always bothered him with extended exertion but he hadn't spoke about it to Harry from not wanting to appear weak. However now it was getting unbearable. And soon, he wasn’t going to be able to ignore it.

“Har-,” It was a minute later that point came, he wheezed a little through his efforts to get the other boy’s attention from ahead, “Harr- y, wait,”

He whittled down to a slow jog, feet dragging against the rubble of the path. He could see the outline of the muscles in Harry's back, the sweat gleaming down the central column of his spine. He was so close but, not close enough.

Chest heaving, he stopped and bent forward, resting his hands on his knees. A few dry breathes he settled the burn in his lungs and sat down without even meaning to, feeling his whole body buzz as his ass collided with the ground. His mouth felt like stone. He grabbed the back of his left thigh and rubbed it fiercely, trying to massage it into surrender but the pain persisted, shooting up the inside and into his groin.

Head hung, his arms resting on his knees he looked up, squinting against the sun in his eyes, burning against what skin was bared and a glimmer caught his eyes. He looked beyond the stretch of the lake, beyond Harry’s jogging form and saw it, just atop the roadside about a quarter mile ahead. It glistened like a mirror catching the sunlight. With the poor energy he had left Louis wiped the sweat from his brow with his shirt and blocked the sunlight from his vision to get a better look.

He didn't understand why he felt so guilty, why his stopped contracted with an unpleasant tremor when he identified the object. 

In the last breath before his impending unconsciousness he looked up, which took an unnecessary amount of effort to not fall over besides being stationary and he wondered how long he’d had his head in his hands for, how long he’d been holding his t-shirt against his forehead for the last thought he had was a sore one, guilt ridden and painful when his vision blurred and large hands were there at the back of his head before it hit the ground and his world went black.

 

*

 

He woke up in a bed.

Good start. He’d woken up in strange places, with a stuffier head so, excellent.

Blinking softly, his eyes barely peeled back to full capacity as he peered up to the high ceiling, a ceiling he didn’t recognise whatsoever. A second or so later he wriggled his feet, flexed his palms against the soft cotton sheets. This bed was big. A larger than what he’s ever been used to before big.

Swallowing he turned his head, the pinch from the bruise still annoying. Dark mahogany side table.

Harry’s dark mahogany side table. Turning his head the other way he were met with it’s twin.

He was in Harry’s large bed, under his high ceiling, nestled between his vintage furniture.

Harry’s bed.

In Harry’s _room_.

The thought bounced around his head like a pinball, waking him to full consciousness in no time. Slowly, he went about sitting up to inspect his surroundings while that thought still flounced around his mind as he desperately tried to reason with himself as to _why_ he could possibly be in Harry’s bed. Alone.

It was uncomfortable sitting up like that, his body was sore and his arms a little weak. His thigh felt a bit bruised and his neck of course, but the dull ache in his head was an unwelcome addition. Wriggling his bum back a little so he could try ease the tension in his spine he realised his underwear was still on, as was his t-shirt so that cancelled out any of, well, that.

Time. Louis wondered then what time it was, the inner drapes were pulled so it didn’t block all the light out but it were still difficult to gage any real time. Did Harry even have a clock? No alarm clock on either dressing table, no wall clock on any surface. Surely a man of such early rise, such precision and routine to his day would keep a source of time keeping in his own damn room.

Turning again to the side table Louis looked back at what caught his eye.

When he registered the fluid he suddenly became very aware of how dry his throat was and it became his body’s involuntarily mission to get it, clambering instantly onto his side to reach for it only to be stopped by a searing pain in his thigh making him spring back.

“Ow, ow, ow, ow, _ow_ ,” Through gritted teeth he cursed and grabbed his leg and his memory came hurtling back.

Timing nothing short of perfection the bedroom door creaked and there was Harry, poking half his body around but stepping in fully when he saw him sat up. His bandana was removed, black jeans and top replaced.

“You're awake," He half closed the door behind him and he made his way over to Louis, sitting on the edge of the bed with a less than graceful thump, "how're you feeling?"

Louis motioned towards the water and Harry was quick to give it to him. He tried not to stare as he gulped it down greedily.

"Alright," Louis' voice was barely above a whisper. He pondered over Harry for a few seconds before going on, "I don't know what's going on with me, my leg is so bad."

"Your leg?" Harry looked down.

"Yeah man," Louis wiggled back so he was sat up fully and winced as his muscle pulled again.

"What's wrong with your leg?"

"It's just playing up a bit. I didn't want to tell you earlier, because I felt like I was complaining needlessly but now I'm here," He motioned around himself, "partially disabled, I may as well confess."

Harry took the glass from his hands and fiddled with it while talking. He did;t want to even think about the possibility that it was just another injury he caused that day, just another tally on the chart of reasons he should keep as far away from this boy as possible.

"That explains why you passed out."

"So I did pass out? Great. That's embarrassing."

Angry, Harry turned with a surprised look. “No, not embarrassing, there's nothing embarrassing about putting your body under too much strain like that, only foolishness.” He held Louis’ gaze, caring not about how alarmed he looked, “Your stubborn streak stretches too far you know."

Louis stayed silent, feeling kind of bad.

"You need to tell me these kinds of things Louis, if I knew you were in so much pain there's no way I would of put you under that sort of pressure."

"Pressure?"

"To run. I would not have made you run at all, it was meant to be fun. Maybe toughen you up not weaken you further."

"You could've left out the _further_.” Louis deadpanned.

This, for the first time since he'd met him, made Harry laugh. Not just a casual huff but a big 'from the gut' laugh. Louis just stared. It kind of made him jump. It was only a stupid laugh but the fact he'd never seen Harry's face in a fully stretched, toothy smile before was one thing but the sound of his laugh was another thing entirely. It was contagious, a deep rumble at times like his voice and then this ludicrous shriek. Kind of beautiful, like him.

"I'm serious.” But Louis couldn't help a giggle too. “Dick.”

Harry got up and pulled back the quilt with him, the cold air slapping Louis’ bare skin so quickly his skin pimpled instantly.

"Come on Princess."

“Screw you," Louis scolded as he started to fling - more like _tentatively edge_ \- his legs over the side of the bed.

"Careful now.”

Louis batted his hand away.

Harry remained right there though, just incase. ”How's your head?"

Louis glared up at him.

"No really. Any dizziness?"

He shook his head as he pushed off the bed, Harry's hand a gentle reassurance on his arm.

"Just a mild headache, nothing else."

Bringing Louis back into the waking world of his home was mistake number one. He should’ve just kept him upstairs in the confines of his bedroom where no one goes, no one is allowed to go. Safe from wandering eyes and curious noses as they stuck in the air at the intrusive scent of an unknown human.

“Alpha.” Two of his betas spoke in unison as he came through behind Louis, carefully watching his every step.

The blood drained from every organ required to think, speak or move. Louis didn’t appear to have picked up on the name but Harry still stopped dead in the doorway to their communal kitchen, which was where the entirety of his pack was gathered. All betas, all omegas and one out of the three Alpha’s. Splendid.

“Everyone,” Harry nodded, shaking himself out it, “meet Louis.”

There was more than a standard greeting in that ‘everyone’. His word drenched in a warning to stay _back_ , the caution clear in the predatory way he manoeuvred behind Louis and pulled out his chair, angling it away from the nearest seated beta - Niall.

“Hi.”

Louis offered a small smile, a tiny wave that made him feel a tad weird when it wasn’t returned, just twelve sets of eyes glued in his direction.

Harry cleared his throat, “I presume we’re all here for food?”

Louis felt the blonde boy to his side staring at him. It wasn’t delivered with anywhere near the amount of intense borderline harrowing velocity Harry’s were, but it was still studious and entirely off putting.

“Hey, so,” Louis repeated quietly, tipping his chin, letting Harry speak to the rest while he tried engage in conversation with at least one of this crowd, “what’s your name?”

The boy’s eyes lit up, dropping his thumb that he’d been nibbling at and smiling instantly, “M’names Niall.” He offered his other hand confidently, which Louis took, “Nice to meet you _Louis_.”

He liked him.

He was the only one who’d actually spoken to him so that warranted likability in Louis’ books.

“And you, Louis? What do you want?” Someone else spoke his name before Louis even had chance to ask who the hell he was and who the rest of them are. He looked up the same time Harry did from across the room at the counter, burning into the boy who spoke his name.

“I- huh?”

“Food. We need our energy so we’re eating a tonne, do you want, I don’t know,” The boy shrugged, looking to the others for beat, “something smaller? Less carbs maybe?”

“He will eat what I have.”

“But Al-,”

Harry’s stomach dropped, “ _Enough_. He will eat half of everything of mine.”

No one seemed to be quite affected by this presumption as much as the boy himself, astounded by Harry’s blunt force. “Um, I will?”

Harry was still recovering from the near reveal, his heart jack hammering, his temper piked so he will ask for forgiveness after from his short snap, “Yes Louis, our chefs are world class so you won’t be disappointed.”

“You don’t even know what I like?”

Harry’s jaw went rigid, a blunt weight echoed around the room as he slapped his open palm into the table with the list of food he’d added to. Ignoring Louis he ushered the other Alpha to take it to the kitchen, turning back to the counter again to reply, “You will eat what you’re given.”

Louis mocked his tone, “Oh I will _eat what I am given_ ,” He scoffed, elbowed Niall whose knee was jogging nervously, taking up chewing his thumb again, “the cheek.”

Niall looked to him, eyes wide with disbelief, mouth still moulded around his sodden digit. In fact, all the faces in the room looked to him aghast, shocked, at his defiance. Harry may be one of the softest heirs they’ve ever known but he is still the Alpha and questioning him like this warrants punishment. They were silent.

Harry turned around, back imposing in it’s width, shoulders tense as he collected a cup and went to the other side of the kitchen, pushing past two male beta’s to get to the sink. “Where’s Grant?”

The beta he accidentally elbowed past answered without fault, “Uh he’s at the car show? The 56th Annual.”

Harry remembered him pre warning him that he’d been absent because of this, nodding silently then asking about the other Alpha, Ansel. No one could answered that, just a soft chorus of mumbles and exchanged glances but Harry wasn’t exactly concerned, rather the opposite. He knew Ansel’s temperament around young boys, human or not. He had an appetite and Harry didn’t think he’d handle it well if he so much as caught him looking at Louis in the wrong way.

“Okay, as you were. Louis?” Harry turned holding two glasses in one hand, long fingers hooking around so far it looked near impossible for a second. He beckoned for him to rise up, coming around to his side of the central table with a held out hand which Louis ignored to make a point of his earlier conciseness. Harry didn’t comment, just watched him as he got off the stool a little shakily, saying it was nice to meet you to Niall who smiled cautiously, nodding and watching him hobble off.

“Come on King Harry.”

Dylan, the beta who first tipped him off about Louis at his party, came to the front just before Harry reached the door and grabbed his arm, a daring move considering his current complexion. Instinctively he pulled against the hindrance and when he saw who it was checked to see if Louis were out of earshot.

The Alpha didn’t even let him talk, “Not the time.”

“Harry please,” Dylan begged, tried to keep the desperation from his voice so it wouldn’t rattle his cage, “I thought you were more sensible than this.”

Harry practically hissed his response, tearing his arm from the beta’s grasp and returning the gesture with more gusto. He pulled him from the doorway and down the corridor, gritted mouth right in his ear, “If you even dare make him uncomfortable I won’t haunt you with threats of what I plan to do, if you mention anything to anyone,” He swung him round and slammed him into he wall, the conversation that buzzed from the kitchen dimming instantly, “you won’t see me coming.”

Harry wasted no more time on him, leaving him in silence to get to who was the sweet centre of his strife.

“Bit rude don’t you think?”

“Louis shut up.” Harry for a wild second, thought Louis were referring to conversation he’d just had with Dylan, but sense came back around and he rounded the back of the sofa he found Louis seated on, picking nonchalantly on the bowl of fresh grapes.

"Who even were they?"

Harry sighed, "Um," He hadn't even thought what he'd say or how he'd go about explaining twelve brand new faces, "they're Gemma's baking, class."

What.

"Oh," Louis sounded surprised, but not suspicious, "okay. Explains why they needed the energy. Thought they were just family or something." 

 _Family. That would've been a more obvious and less complicated lie._  

“Um, what happened to making it up to me?” He frowned at the way the insolence propped himself next to him, gracelessly, “I thought this whole day was dedicated to proving to me you’re not a complete dick.”

“The chef’s, they have a lot on their plate.”

Louis barked a laugh, a gentle scrunch of his nose when he pushed at Harry’s shoulder who was looking at him perplexed, “Very good.”

“What is?”

“The pun. That joke,” Louis slapped his rounded shoulder, sighing, “for a joker you're fucking miserable."

“Anyway,” He still looked at him, amused by absolutely nothing, the heat in his gaze hopefully conveying this as he pushed on, “I didn’t want to add to the tall order so I said what I said. They’re good to us, if we treat them well they will do the same. So again, I apologise. And it will be the last thing I will apologise for to you.” Harry looked away then immediately back, “Ever.”

Louis was nodding, lips pouted. Took his 23rd apology of the month in his stride as he were hungry anyway, starving in fact. He recoiled back into the couch, with the immediate unprompted help of Harry’s capable hands, heaving his legs gently so he could stretch out where he was sat and when Louis saw him standing up again he whined, Harry looking to the sound like it were magnetised.

“Where you going now?”

It was petulant and Harry’s heart ached.

“Just remembered I need to go sort something,” He offered a thin blanket which Louis took, “shan’t be long.”

Before leaving he ran his fingers through Louis’ hair. It wasn’t a conscious decision to do so, didn’t even think about doing it, just found his fingers running through the soft tufts on his way past, fingertips gently grazing his scalp with a soft purr.

Blue eyes slipped close with the affection and Harry’s purr turned into a soft rumble. Then he realised what he was doing and he was awkward and twitchy, everything he should never be, leaving the room with idle fingers and a weird pull in his chest.

An hour passes with a comfortable surrender, both the boys draped in the second lounge that was never used for anything but functions or if they had guests over. It wasn’t as cozy as the other two regular ones, it was bigger and brighter, with a cold fire place sporting no fire that left it looking miserable. But it was okay, because they were overly comfortable enough with each other’s company that the surroundings stayed very much in the back ground.

They'd dined alone in the room together and Louis would strive to not be lulled into such comfort every time. To stay sitting up right for longer, not slouching and draping his limbs over the furniture. To sit further away from Harry for a while instead of being like a pathetic moth to a flame with this invisible rope that pulls him in.

There was a feeling that came with Harry’s all consuming presence and it was a feeling of solidarity, a unity that had him feeling more safe and relaxed with people than whom he’d known for years.

He should know better, he really should.

Harry had just lectured Louis on the stupidity in fearing what others think of him, that he should never push his physical limits in fear of bruising his ego for his health will suffer. Harry threatened the termination of their friendship, which Louis dismissed with a simple wink.

Harry’d finally sat down on the large couch across from Louis after running out to retrieve fresh water for them both and let out a heavy sigh. Louis cast a fond eye over him like this. Relaxed, no front, post protective lecture.

"You know, you're a bit of a softy at heart."

Harry's eyes flashed something that Louis couldn't translate, rolling his head to look down at Louis.

"How so?"

"Well," Louis stretched out, his toes wriggling, "this couch is super comfy, wide enough to sprawl out on and sturdy enough to not induce any joint or muscle pain.”

Harry stared on.

“And there's the back lounge with another equally adequate couch." Louis looked as if he was thinking hard, “Actually I'm missing the obvious here, there's _the guest_ bedrooms. Which, for all intents and purposes would've been perfect too."

Harry looked funny like that, nostrils flaring with each breath, brows coming together, staring down at him from the unflattering angle he was laid up, “Am I, missing something?"

"Well as far as I’m aware I was out cold for a while, correct?"

Harry hummed, still not catching his drift but feeling like he should be.

“You must've carried me in here and put me in your bed." Louis tried so desperately to stop the smirk that was tugging at his lips, but his giggle gave him away, “Why your bed?"

It did occur to Harry, that this may possibly be the worse choice of occupancy for Louis during his recovery as it would be the ultimate barrier breaker in their relationship. Thus far he'd made it such a solid rule that his room is out of bounds, therefore taking it on himself to physically place Louis in his bed would cancel this out completely. Especially considering the disaster that was endured between them the last time Louis had crossed that line.

"I see. Well I er-,” Harry sat forward then, feeling exposed in his own house, “you liked my bed.”

Louis didn’t hold back his smile any longer, popping out wide in all it's glory as he watched how uncomfortable Harry looked sitting up and softly clearing his throat.

"Shut up."

Louis’ laughter excelled. “I didn't say anything!"

"I can hear the cogs in your head turning." Harry pushed up to a stand with the aid of his hands on his knees and walked towards the door that led out onto the corridor at the back of the room, a short walk down there lay the opening to the indoor pool. "And I'm not soft."

Now he’d tested the waters, Louis thought it was fit to do that quite literally. Pushing himself carefully off the couch, ignoring the twang in his upper thigh Louis scuttled over and placed a hand on the handle before Harry had the chance to lock it.

“Being so you're feeling so generous today,” Slowly, he unpicked Harry's fingers and pulled the door open, feeling the wave of hot air wash over his bare skin; a harsh contrast to the air-conditioning of the interior, “perhaps a little hydro therapy?”

Staring at the slender fingers replacing his own, his lips popped open, eyes following the action of the door reopening and the tiny person slipping past him to get through it.

"Are you familiar with the phrase _pushing your luck_?"


	8. Chapter 8

Harry watched Louis carefully as he whipped past him, turning to the side to fit through the tiny gap he'd made, descending the steps to the extension of the corridor. Ignoring a short utterance from the boy behind him, Louis padded barefoot down the corridor, the warm air from the conservatory at the far end exciting him.

As predicted since the second he’d laid eyes upon this monstrous build, Louis knew it wasn’t going to be any ordinary conservatory. No this was high ceilings, huge glass panels framing the room in a curved design - almost like a gigantic glass bird cage. It was large enough to fit a small olympic sized swimming pool and loungers along each side, enough for a large gathering of people. Louis wondered how many parties had been held here.

In the time it took for Louis to get to one of the loungers, he admired the pillars that anchored the glass panels, the vines around the top end of the room, flowers blossoming up the walls as a backdrop.

“Louis.”

He continued to ignore him as he peeled off his t-shirt, skin prickling and welcoming the heat that’d been thermalised from the humidity of the outside. It was just touching on 9PM but the air was still laced with it, the sun just about fully set now leaving a rich amber glow in the distant sky which gave the entire room a regal splendour. Louis closed his eyes as he let his top fall to the floor. He had shorts on already but he didn't want to get them wet, so he slipped those off too, wiggling each foot out and kicking them to the side.

Behind, Harry didn't say a word. Didn't dare.

He hovered half way in, unable to get any closer just yet and watched this incredible scene unfold before him, knowing he should most definitely look away. Maybe say something to stop him going any further. Basically anything but just stand there and spectate. But the way Louis looked over his shoulder at him, those wide eyes glistening - full of mischief right before he turned and took a hold of the silver rail, made his blood boil with overwhelming lust.

"Oh, it's heated." Louis mumbled to himself after dipping his toe in to check.

When he was fully submerged in the water he did a few leisurely lengths, enjoying the feeling of freedom that water gave him. He was under the water more than he were above, the muscles in his body thanking him for the zero friction exercise, massaging his sore joints with every twist and turn.

All the while, he was overly aware of Harry's watchful eye and after he’d indulged in his water-baby cravings, swam to the pool's edge where he found him perched with his legs dangling over the side, jeans _removed_.

“Jumping in?”

Louis folded his forearms on the concrete and rest his head to the side, smirking up at Harry, who to his surprise was looking calm and subconsciously swaying his feet in the water. Maybe it was the angle, or the underwater lighting, maybe even the faint glow of the dying sunset, but he looked beyond attractive sitting there in his black top and black underwear. Or maybe it's because he _was_ just incredibly attractive and Louis was feeling horny.

Harry didn’t look at him. “No. I’d just rather my jeans not get sodden from the side.”

Horny had seemed to be a regular emotion recently and he has no idea why. Obviously, he was a seventeen year old boy with a libido to match, but he'd never felt this towards anyone before and it sort of knocked the wind from his lungs. Now he’d had the unfortunate experience of Harry slapping him cold against a wall and squeezing the life from his lungs before knocking him out, he at least had a physical representation, a reference to even an iota of what this feeling actually _felt_ like. This stupid, overpowering, suffocating, I like you so much I can’t stop thinking about what it would be like to read the newspaper in bed with you on a Sunday morning after waking you up with a earth shattering blowjob kind of feeling.

Louis took a deep breath, aware of his thoughts and his lingering gaze, turning to rest his wet cheek on his crossed arms instead. Although now he was staring directly at those thighs, the hairs that dissipated the higher they got, the obvious muscle flexing as he swung his feet mindlessly, the full, bulbous rise ballooning his underwear. Louis hated everything.

“What?” Harry’s sharp grumble made him jump.

He’d caught him staring.

Regardless of everything he’d stood for up until the day Harry tore the door open to his Range Rover and trudged into his life, despite everything he knew he shouldn’t feel, he was inexplicably drawn to him. Side stepping every single thing that screamed for him not to be, his mild self-indulgent tendencies, his obnoxious authority, his mental instability, his intense _everything_ , he admitted to no one but himself that deep down, in that secret place, he loved it.

Louis blinked up to see those awful eyes burning a gaze into him, glowing from the amber hue of the room.

“N-nothing. Guess I'm thinking about why you're not trying to haul me out this pool.”

"Yeah well," Harry returned his gaze to his feet, "I'm considering it."

Louis stared on for a little, a smirk twisting onto his face which didn't go unnoticed because Harry peered at him through the corner of his eyes, sensing Louis’ frivolity, “What now?"

"You really are turning soft.”

He walked his hands across the side until he was as close to Harry's knees that he could get and took a hold of them, positioning himself in-between his thighs and using them as a steady foundation to pull himself up to eye level. His bare torso, a long svelte line of tight muscle, contracting to keep him upright, water scaling down every open inch was a delight to witness from Harry's position.

If anything was going to wake Harry up from his ‘soft’ daze, this was it.

"Actually I take it back. I am turning soft," He tried so hard to not look at that tight, wet body in front of him that it physically hurt, leaning a little back into his hands. “But if you even so much as think about trying to pull me in I will drag you out by your ankles.”

Harry's tone warned but his eyes were smiling.

“And by out I mean - of the house.”

Challenge accepted.

"I actually think I prefer you a bit, harder.”

Even Louis wasn't blind to the connotations of that statement. It fully crossed the 'flirtation barrier' that got him into trouble last time around and he knew it, but he didn't care, the adrenaline was surging through his veins and was infectious. He kept his stare low and steady as he leaned in, doing that soft biting thing with his bottom lip that drove Harry insane.

“I don’t think you do.” His jaw ached with the tightness to which it were clenched, his eyes burned with the need to drop down and take every inch of the temptation divulged before him. He panicked. His heart rate had raised a considerable amount in the space of twenty seconds with Louis' lips now right next to his cheek, their torso’s a couple of inches apart, the sound of his tongue licking his lips before he spoke was pure filth.

"I want you to come for a swim."

It was no surprise that Harry's brain only registered the first five words and had to grind his teeth further before the other side of him replied something obscene. He was glued to the spot not wanting to touch him, not wanting to move in fear of finally losing his grip - literally and mentally.

“Absolutely not.”

Louis peered at him, the effects of that voice manifesting in his lower stomach. He had now somehow, and Harry really couldn't figure out how, managed to balance himself well enough to pull his legs up and over Harry’s own so he was now straddling his lap, conveniently wet and slippery and half naked, small hands snaking around his neck. Louis was a feather weight by all means but when they’re teetering on the edge of a pool like that, it was proving annoyingly difficult to keep upright.

"Louis you are something else. You know - _ah,_ you know that?" He had no choice but to grip his waist. His huge hands held him up so there wasn't such a weight on his neck and just that alone, having his body in his grip was enough to trigger that voice in his head, his wolf stirring in the back of his mind and his groin.

Those mischievous hands had begun working his top up from the nape of his neck, gathering it. Harry’s voice was thick and heavy near Louis’ face, “What are you doing?"

Louis ignored him, instead just held his top there bunched in his hands leaving Harry's back bare.

"You want it off?"

Louis nodded his head. Seems this boy had misplaced his tongue in the last minute.

If there was one thing that made this that bit more unbearable, once again, it was Harry’s sense. The ability that it granted to him and every wolf, to sense emotion, to gage a point of interest in a person’s perception so you can have a level of interpretation that goes beyond anything that which a human could achieve. Most times, one would consider it a gift, served on a silver plate with a bow. Times like these, however - perhaps this entire fucking day - the supernatural was something he wished he could rip from his body.

Louis’ arousal hung all around him and it was torture knowing he was angling for him just as much as Harry were him.

Despite knowing that, despite the _torture_ , despite knowing if he took his top off and joined him it wouldn't aid his situation at all, he went and did it anyway. And he had absolutely no idea why. He let Louis go gently, the water barely making a sound as he guided him back in, allowing him to submerge shoulder deep in the warm water again and pulled his top over his head.

"Satisfied?" Harry exhaled, bunching up his top and pushing it to the side.

A soft moan caught at the back of Louis’ throat. He nodded.

No. He wasn't satisfied at all. In fact his appetite was expanding by the second, curiosity and arousal clogged his veins. His body was broad. Solid but not stocky; nothing had been forced on this, no muscle had been manufactured. Everything had been earned over time and was a result from real strength and unfairly superior genetics. The kind of physique that spoke for itself. Sturdy chest and shoulders, big strong biceps, forearms and those abdominals.

Physically he was a work of art, the epitome of pure masculinity and he was only nineteen.

“Well not quite," Louis could feel the stirring in his pants, “join me?”

Harry wasn’t looking at him, head bent as he untied his bandana. Which was a contradiction the next sentence that left his mouth.

"I don't think that's the wisest idea you've had.” Throwing it to the side, his eyes locked onto Louis'.

He knew Louis didn’t know about him. He didn’t know why he were refusing to let down these barriers on intimacy. But Louis looked at him then and it was like none of it mattered, like it was going be fine and Louis could guarantee it. And if the prophecy was right and thus far it had been, then all this middle ground, all this struggle will eventually even out in the end and it will be just, fine.

"Neither was letting me in this pool, nor taking your top off.” Louis dipped a little lower underwater so his lips only just scraped the surface, “Yet here we are."

Harry hoped to every deity that his guttural snarl went unheard and in one lift of his arms, he lowered himself in.

 

*

 

If he'd thought the last few weeks and eleven hours of his life had been torturous hell, it was nothing in comparison to what lay imminently ahead.

After the pool incident they both took showers - a cold one in Harry's case to which he allowed himself an absurd appraisal. He'd just about managed to shake the image of wet Louis from his mind's perverted eye and even though his cock was stood to attention throughout half of the shower - even with ice cold water pelting down onto it - he still didn't release himself. Something he was going to regret not doing very soon.

Night had fully drawn in, it was some minute past eleven and he opened his bedroom door to darkness except a small light flickering. It was coming from down the end of the corridor, downstairs, beyond the banister. Everyone was in bed, his parents having arrived back not an hour ago, exhausted without a word beyond asking if Louis were staying the night.

Harry’d acted innocent enough, confident in his act until Gemma appeared at the doorway with Amber slipping by her side who was doing her best to act uninterested while her ears were trained on every word Harry spoke. He told them he was, just for the night, didn’t plan on being around this late so it seemed only polite to offer accommodation for the evening. Something like that anyway. He was just grateful his parents didn’t care, far too tired to care, his Mother leaving with a quick kiss to his cheek and his Father silently with a clap to his shoulder and a short goodnight in passing.

Harry yawned, stretching his back as he pushed downstairs heavily, his muscles exhausted, to identify the light. A few steps from the bottom it didn’t take long to pick up the scent.

He'd forgotten to tell Louis that he didn't have to worry about an early rise tomorrow. He wanted to let him lay in as late as he wished, give his body time to rest and recover, feed and then go when he felt fit.

Before going to the library where the light was sourced, he went around and checked the locks on everything, as he has done every night since he’d met Louis. The front door and the windows in every room of the ground level. Up until this point the pack were their own security, even when it were just Harry and his immediate family, he felt no need for the structural security of a building because they’d be able to handle anything that came their way. But now he knows what he knows and the Alpha in him was alert and aware, doing everything to shackle their safety. He had to do the rounds after night fall though, when he was sure everyone had retired to their rooms, if he were caught there would be probing questions that no one would believe. It took a long ten minutes to execute but it gave him mind rest.

Satisfied, he flicked off consecutive lights as he made his way to the library. Upon arrival he was greeted with Louis curled up in one of the large armchairs, predicted, with a book, predicted, but in nothing but a pair of black underpants and a black pullover hoodie. Harry's hoodie.

What one should say in this situation is something sarcastic, some witty comment about not owning enough clothes or first you come here, break every one of my rules, eat all my food, make my pack (Gemma's baking group) fall in love with you and now you wear my clothes and they would ideally both laugh it off with a slap knee joviality and they would bid each other goodnight.

Except there was nothing funny about this. It was tickling one bone in particular and it wasn't his funny one. It was as if Louis had crawled into that dark area of his mind and was working his way through his tether, ticking off every single box, each tease, one by one. A list devised by Harry, full of everything he found hard to resist. One of those things happened to be a boy wearing his clothes, how such a simple exchange highlighted how small he was, the sheer size difference between them served up on a plate for the whole world to see like, " _look here, look how your top buries his tiny frame, how adorable he is, how easy he would be to manhandle…_ "

He cut that thought short.

"Erm," Was all he managed. The frown on his face permanent by now. There was a sound that was winding its way up his throat, a croak at best and Louis looked up and smiled instantly, waiting for him to continue. “Are you - is, is that my hoodie?"

Harry was new to the idea of stuttering.

As if this was news to him Louis frowned, peered down and seemed to remember what he was wearing as recognition flooded his expression and he nodded, "Oh yeah, I found it on the stool in the kitchen. I presumed because I only had the clothes I came in that it’d be alright, but, yeah. It's comfortable," He didn't see the problem, but the visible distress on Harry's face told him there clearly was one, “You don't mind do you?"

"Yes." Harry spat out his answer within the second.

Louis looked taken aback but nevertheless fussed instantly, “Okay, that's alright I'll just…" he placed his book on the table top and shuffled to his feet, "take it off."

Fuck.

Not again.

Harry nearly cried as Louis went about pulling it over his head until he practically shrieked for him to stop, holding a hand out and Louis did, immediately, the sound of authority taking him back to the last time he’d disobeyed him and fiddled with his firearm.

Harry was on the verge of a breakdown. Louis was so close to being pretty much naked, again, in his presence. Fresh from the shower.

"Right." Harry was staring at the hoodie, "I didn't expect you-,” He turned around looking at anything but Louis, "Stay here I'll… you- I’ll get-,”

Louis held his arms. He rocked on his heels and looked to the book left face down on the arm rest.

"Screw it." He picked up speed and followed Harry's tracks.

He tried to be as quiet as he could when ascending the vast staircase, astounded at how fast that boy had managed to flee. He didn’t dare go anywhere he weren’t familiar with, quite aware the house was homing twenty plus individuals, so he padded softly to the room he may as well claim as his joint bedroom - Harry’s, to find Harry himself pulling out a drawer at a time. He had no idea why he found this so amusing but he did. Louis lingered in the doorway, a hand on the frame, “What are you doing?"

Harry looked as if he wanted to murder him when he turned his head; there was an unplaceable anger in his face as if he'd just stumbled across his Grandmother's head in his middle draw. But he still made no eye contact.

“Looking for a top for you, perhaps some pants too," He continued to search his drawers, “Tomorrow morning, there's no need to set your alarm. You can lie in until whenever because I need you to rest."

“So you’re still certain about me staying over?”

Louis dismissed the silence and made his way over to a rummaging Harry. Maybe it was his aroused state that gave him a sudden rush of confidence, he wasn't entirely certain but it sure as hell hit him hard as he shut the drawer and yanked Harry up by his arm and walked him backwards until he practically fell onto his bed.

There was no resistance from the elder, just consumed by the rush of those hands on his steadily over heating skin.

"I don't want to wear anything. I don't wear anything but underwear to bed."

Louis had his hands on his torso pushing Harry back until he was propped up on his elbows, swinging his right leg over and straddling him on the spot. This being all too familiar for the both of them, the only difference being this time there was not a scrape of innocence to it; Louis wanted him for real and was prepared to get it.

“You were reading…" Harry spoke while his eyes travelled from Louis' crotch, up the length of his torso, to his lips and then his eyes - those big, beautiful fucking eyes.

"I'm on top of you and that's the first thing that comes to mind? It wasn't that interesting, besides I couldn't really,” Louis ever so slightly ground his hips down, " _focus_."

Harry closed his eyes then, breathing through his nose, repeating the same thing over and over in his head.

_You don't want him. You don't need this._  
_You don't want him. You don't need this._  
_You don't want hi-_

Louis had leant in and placed a feather light kiss on his lips. It lasted a full 2.43 seconds but enough to send off fireworks in Harry's mind. Those lips were so full and so soft, it was impossible not to enjoy them. As if he were waiting for Harry's approval, Louis hovered for a second just looking down at him.

Harry was presented with two choices.

A) He gives in and kisses him, touches him and does whatever else to him but run the risk of letting his dual self take over completely from the over excitement which will leave Louis in a battered state and ruin this whole thing. Or. B) Push him off, make up a complete load of bullshit about his sexuality, resulting in not only awkwardness but complete misery for both of them compromising their bond.

It wasn't a battle of head vs. heart as are many decisions in life, because both were telling him the same thing - the sane thing. Let him go. But his wolf was a life of it’s own and it wanted Louis, needed him for it’s own selfish desires that was built into every bone in his body, the cravings that bled into the undercurrent of his existence.

_You do want him. You need this._

Looking uncertain, Louis shifted, Harry’s hands tightening just above their position on his waist.

_You know you want him. You deserve this._

Louis kissed him softly again, not parting his mouth too much, he wanted to enjoy Harry's own very full, plush lips. This kiss was longer though and he let his top lip drag a bit when pulling away.

"Louis," Harry's voice was incredibly low, his accent coming through thick which made Louis weak, "you have no idea, what you're doing."

Harry wraps his fingers around Louis’ slim wrists, slowly at first but then they tightened, fingers having a little evil will of their own but not too much, just enough to remind him who’s boss. Ultimately. He pries Louis’ hands from scaling up his chest against the small boy’s quiet protest.

“Louis,” It’s a slight hiss, no threatening timbre needed yet.

He tries to catch his eye, get the message through to him through that haze of lust in clear blue. Alas it was useless, Louis flicking a tongue out to coat his lips before he dragged them through his teeth, wide eyes fluttering a couple of times, peering up.

“Louis,” His voice rose, only a little, shifting back as he got dangerously close again, “stop.”

“You don’t want this. This, this isn’t what you need,” Harry’d struggled to lie, always favour blunt and direct over dodging the truth. It wasn’t in his make up to try and hide feelings or paint things to be differently so trying to convince himself that he could ignore that tug that’s been there since the day he caught sight of him in the school courtyard, trying to mask his most innate urge was one thing, but to try and convince the boy he’s destined towards that he isn’t attracted to him - that was ten times worse. Especially when he’s this close and he smells that good.

“You really, don’t think I know what I want?” Louis’ voice was a whisper, bridging the gap between flesh as his hands dipped under Harry’s cotton t-shirt and cascaded over the solid mound of his abdominals, “You have no idea.”

Harry knew this challenge would present itself. Sooner or later. He knew this day would come. Thing was though, he thought he would handle it. Thought the early stages would be the easiest ones and would be able to sort of put it off, until it really mattered, until the feeling got real and the bond got harder to ignore. But that was all bullshit. Never before, as the Alpha he was, the Alpha he’s going to be trained to be, in a world of monsters and cruelty has he ever felt so weak.

Then, something Harry least expected happened. Louis stopped his hands, brought them outside his clothing and sat up, peering at him like a lost puppy.

“Why do you get the panic attacks, Harry?”

And well. It bore a physical effort to realign his trail of thought that was slowly dripping down an entirely different path, stumbling over his frozen tongue for a couple of awkward seconds before pushing up fully onto his arms, Louis’ eyes flitting to the contraction in his triceps to allow such a thing, “Erm,” He licked his lips, “I don’t, I mean I don’t know really.”

“Don’t lie.”

Rich. _Very_ rich, Harry thought. He didn’t know whether he liked the challenge or was threatened by it.

“I’m not?”

Harry’s eyebrows shot up when Louis placed his palm over his pectoral, “Your heart is beating so fast,”

“Well I think if I remember correctly from my biology class, that is in fact the _natural_ reaction to having a fine young thing straddling one’s lap like so.”

He received a light tap but nothing more, Louis giggling with a bitten lip dragging through his teeth and it was all Harry could do to not seize his hips, flip him over and impale him on the bed. Claim him for it was written for it to be.

“It’s intimacy, isn’t it?” Louis was now fiddling with the chain around his neck again, things feeling like they were coming full circle in a rather uneasy fashion, “It’s the closeness that gets you panicking, then the anxiety that comes with it - it takes you over and that’s when you lose control and your mind glitches.”

He nearly choked, “Gl- _glitches_?”

“Yeah, I mean I’m being polite.”

Harry hummed, nodding slowly, eyes travelling down to his chest then stopping before he got to the Southernly regions he would never come back from. It was anybody’s guess where their conversation was going or why it was even happening, but Harry was torn between being pissed that it decided to arise in the middle of _that_ , and being relieved that it stopped him from going any further than _that_.

So he thought on it, sat up a little more, automatically grabbing Louis’ slim thighs to adjust them both so they were more comfortable sat on the edge of the bed and he looked back up, remembering that he should really offer some response to this cover story.

“I don’t think that’s-,”

“It’s okay Harry, I get it. I figured it out today, just needed, I don’t know confirmation?” Like he’d spent an era in his lap, Louis sighed, snaking his hands over his shoulders and down the back of his arms to rest on the muscle there, “You weren’t really sick that day were you?”

Shit.

“Pardon?”

Louis already had him figured out, looking at him through lowered lids like a lazy kitten, “Hmm. See we got a little close and then you got funny, had to leave the room and went a little manic. Then the other day, I kissed you and not ten minutes later did you come through and well,” Harry’s fingers squeezed where they lay. “And now tonight, in the pool, the way you wouldn’t look at me. You were so tense, the idea of us being close again and intimate scared you. Even now, your heart is racing.”

Turns out Harry didn't need to go to lengths find a way to back up his 'hallucinations', Louis'd interpreted all by himself. He was too transfixed in watching the way his mouth moved to argue anyway, so he went along with it, too absorbed in wondering how he could be so lucky.

But then Louis leant forward, left an inch to look at him, trace the speckles of dark green in his iris before he needed to do no more for Harry closed the gap immediately. The kiss soft, tender. Their lips barely touching but somehow it was enough, Harry’s hands hadn’t really eased off any pressure and now Louis’ matched on his biceps, both rocking into the other as they let their lips brush.

Blue eyes were last to open, holding a bit of the moment before it was gone.

“You’re pretty to look at, my Prince. An enigma.” Harry’s post affection voice was something to behold, like it couldn’t gather itself so quickly after. “You draw me in an’ yeah, it scares the shit out of me. I’m so readily attracted to you it’s alarming.”

“You have a fear of getting close?”

“More like a fear of getting hurt,” It was the most honest he could be. “Or being the one to hurt.”

His eyes cascaded down to his neck and Louis collected that strong jaw in his hands, bringing him back to centre gently, Harry was sure he knew how to be nothing but.

“Look at me.”

Harry smiled, genuinely, dimples popping just beyond the breach of those soft fingers, “I am. I always am.” It was a sad smile and Louis wished he knew what to do with it, “You’re so beautiful, Louis. I know you’re going to feel good, I know, that I could have you if I wanted but the moment I try, the possibility that pain is imminent is too much.”

Something passed over the small boy, his neck pulling back barely a nook as he looked over Harry’s broad scope of a shoulder.

“Like a rose.” His mouth more moulded the words than his voice sounded them, but Harry’s ears picked them up.

And yeah.

“Yeah,” He laughed, then laughed again, covering Louis’ hands with his own and folding them inside his palms, “yeah exactly. And I fucking hate roses.”

They slot their bodies together without hesitation, Harry rolling back as Louis piled his minuscule weight into him so he could use him as a makeshift mattress. They giggled and Harry had to keep shushing him from making too much noise, poking his side every so often, nibbling at his jaw, then shushing him some more before taking up their little kissing bouts.

"I like this," Louis muttered, kissed his nose then giggled and thrashed his head to the side when Harry bit his. 

It was nothing, but it was enough for now. Harry’s beast was soothed by something he couldn’t explain under siege, but it gave his soul some repose, comfortably embracing Louis like this, able to run his hands down his flanks taking in and savouring every inch he got to cover without feeling a niggle in his chest, that twist in his vertebra that made him want to clamp down on skin and _claim_.

Instead he could indulge in the pleasures of the flesh on a human level.

“I’m obsessed with you,” It was said in the lightness of a breath, but received with a heavy whimper, Louis surrendering the stretch of his neck for Harry to take. “So, fucking, _perfect._ ”

The next noise was cut off in his throat as he felt blunt teeth scrape his skin, the cushion of Harry’s lips and gentle sucking a contrast to the pressure of his hands at his sides. But then sucking turned into a warm tongue, wet and sliding along his throat, every hair rising as he lifted his body, arched it to fit against Harry’s that made him aware of every hardened muscle, the weight of it against him so heavy.

The low groan that left his throat was more powerful than Louis would ever muster, it vibrating through Louis’ neck where Harry’s mouth was anchored.

For several minutes they continued just like this. The desire burning but never boiling, never transgressing that perimeter that would end in ruins, just savouring the heat as it lay, swirling, twisting around their combined bodies keeping them like that, pinning them down. Tying them together in the surrender they both were willing to give.

Their limbs lay intwined far into the night, Louis opting to change into a t-shirt of Harry’s, which landed mid thigh but he didn’t mind. Harry definitely didn’t. Harry’s door was left open by a crack all the while, which meant their innocent retreat would be visible to anyone who grew curious enough to look. But it didn’t phase Harry enough to get up and change anything, body giving way to the fatigue that had already clouded his mind, his little human curled underneath his arm providing him with a constant flow of that unique scent, lulling him to sleep.

 

*

 

The following morning, Harry woke to find an empty bed.

He’d missed the gentle kiss to his forehead an hour before, merely groaned and turned in his sleep, a deep sleep that he hadn’t enjoyed in so long. He would wake to find a t-shirt of his missing, cradling the hoodie he nearly lost too that was doused in his kryptonite.

When the miserable realisation struck that Louis’d left with saying goodbye, Harry rolled into his pillows, muffling a corked sound and pulling the sweater into his chest, stretching out his toes.

The rawness of the morning had his senses heightened, picking up on every fragment of what he’d left behind. Including something that wasn’t there before.

Squinting his eyes open, he lifted his head from the confines of his pillow, hair a thick mess and inhaled, sniffing to his side.

“What…” He pushed his palm across the mattress and up to a pillow that was strewn carelessly where a body should be.

His senses may be clear but his mind was still very much slumbered, as his fingers cautiously tapped at the end of what appeared to be a stalk, a flower stem. He plucked the end and pulled, revealing the fully flourished blood red rose that came over the mound of cotton. A note was tucked beneath it.

After bringing the head to his face so he could enjoy the smell of something he’d found zero pleasure in until now, he opened the note, spreading it with two fingers and dropped it instantly, hissing as his fingers caught on a thorn.

_“Here’s to taking the risk.”_


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I like my imagery and I forgot to include it earlier, so [this](https://68.media.tumblr.com/22df167653d7d436b63aaf2927505981/tumblr_nlyf7zGWK51u6859yo1_500.gif) is the sort of Harry I had in mind for the first part of the story. Then, this next bit (when he comes back, you'll see) is what he [transitions](https://media.giphy.com/media/c7ljFrHMg5uec/giphy.gif) [into.](https://media.giphy.com/media/11U0sqMfuHCDAI/giphy.gif) It's obvious really, but Alpha development is fast so this is why I'm putting this out there to give you an idea on the pace of stages I envision.

Manoeuvring through the house was interesting that morning. Things were different. Even from the speckles of dust the sun’s rays caught on seemed like they were watching, silence with the received knowledge of his dirty secret. Every creak the floorboards made taunted him, each gnawing sound through the house be it close or far he grew more paranoid, checking over his shoulder for the second time with a frustrated huff as he billowed down the stairs.

“Morni- oh Harry when are you going to start wearing clothes? It’s August for heaven’s sake.”

Harry pointedly ignored his Sister, who was hovering around in the ground floor study he occupied the doorway of, hair mussed, torso naked.

“Where’s Mum and Dad?”

He snapped the band of his underwear as he pulled his striped pants over them that always hung a little low on his hips. He readjusted himself with no mind for his Sister who was sat staring with a disgusted expression, surprise was beyond her by now. She sighed, growing irritated by his nonchalance, “Pig.” Harry frowned, “Father is out, he’s meeting with the Argylls remember.”

Ah, yes.

“Mum’s with Richard.”

Ignoring the greetings from a couple of stray members of his pack - two omegas Harry didn’t stay round long enough to identify, he shoved open doors and tore through hallways to get to the kitchen. Upon his arrival he forcefully dampened down the fear that was bubbling inside, his Mother had a keen nose, knows her own better than any so if he was caught lying it would be catastrophic.

“Mother,” He was breathless suddenly, annoyingly, padding barefoot with a rough hand raking through his hair, “morning.”

Spotting her across the far side beside the steel grill his long strides got him round in no time, dipping his head to give her a chaste kiss on the cheek. She hummed into it, without taking her eyes off of the eggs she were frying until she caught a flash of bare skin.

“ _Harry please_ ,” His Mother guffawed, slapping the centre of his chest, “how many times have I told you to wear clothes in the kitchen, my goodness.”

Harry enjoyed this side to her, the side she kept from her husband. When Des was out she would help dutifully in the kitchen, preparing meals for the pack if they were there like today or just poking her nose in when she can. If she had a spare five minutes you could catch her with a tin of polish in one hand and a cloth in the other, getting her hands dirty with Marie looking like she’d rather be nowhere else.

“Anyway morning darling,” Her velveteen voice accompanied with that small smile put any stress at bay for now, “why did your friend leave before breakfast?”

Or maybe not.

Harry paused around his round of toast, teeth clamped into the grainy texture with his back turned. He chewed fast, so fast his jaw ached with the effort and gulped before it was even ready.

“He,” Swallowing hurt, “had school.”

Anne turned, a full plate of cooked goodness in her hand that she offered Harry to take, “On a Sunday?”

The plate was hot; so hot that his fingerprints may singe off. Good. That sort of pain he could deal with.

“Christian, um, Church,” His Mother looked at him strangely, the smirk that he often donned stretching onto her mouth, “e-every Sunday. He calls it Sunday school, I don’t know.”

He wanted out of that room quick time, didn’t want to waste anymore time trying to make up a believable story when his heartbeat would be tripping and his fingers felt like they were about to fall off. Offering to help with taking the breakfasts through to the pack he excused himself after another mouthful of dry toast, cringing as he backed out the door with three plates balanced on his hands when his Mother caught him just before the door closed.

“Pardon?”

“Your friend, dinner sometime.” Harry braced a foot against the door he leant on, “This Louis boy seems to be important to you, it’d be nice to have a formal meeting.”

If only she knew.

“Yeah. Sure.”

If she knew who he really was, not just to him, not what it meant for him but his family then she wouldn’t be so eager to exchange handshakes.

Harry finished off what was left of the toast in his mouth, head down with a troubled brow. He had to think fast. He couldn’t keep him from them for too long, he knew the moment his Parents latched onto his connection to a human boy they would be overly keen to meet him; they’d always held a soft spot for them. A sort of, ‘protect the human’ ideology. They’re one of the rare families that’d encourage human relations among their packs, apart from romantic sort of course, to maintain the harmony and peace among as many as possible. So it would be difficult to carry on finding feasible excuses for his absence.

And vice versa, actually. Which was another thing entirely Jesus Christ. Harry sighed for the eighth time, kicking through a doorway. Louis clearly didn’t know who he was, Harry had accepted Gemma was right about his father not picking up on anything in the short period they spent at the hospital, therefore Louis wouldn’t have found out. So naturally, Louis would grow more and more curious as they days pushed on as to why he never catches glimpse of his parents. Or why he keeps getting ushered out of the room if it’s anyone but Gemma in there.

“ _Alphaaaaa_ ,” The sweet, mocking tone splits his thoughts in two, “good morning!”

He grunted, all but throwing the plates onto the seating island in the middle of the kitchen, just in time to catch an armful of Omega - a petite brunette, Selena - who smushed her face into his chest as she wrapped her arms as far as they’d go around his middle. She purred into his torso, “Sleep well?”

“Doubt it,” Roman came in from behind them, the scent of food luring him in, “you scare him off?”

Which reminded Harry, “Dylan!” He squeezed Selena’s nape, turned his head to holler over her, “ _Amber_! _Isaac_!”

Roman snorted, pulling out a seat with a sly wink at the pair, “Am I right?”

“Watch your tongue, beta.” Harry looked down, smiling a little as the girl pulled back and looked sleepy as he massaged the back of her neck. He lowered his voice to speak to her, amused, “Did you?”

He kissed Selena’s forehead and sent her over to the table, shifting them to the side to make way for Marie and Richard bringing through more delicious platefuls for the empty stomachs lining around the seats. His own stomach grizzled at the sight of it.

Dylan came in on a slow jog, gave one look to Harry which was obliterated with the glare he got in return, focusing on the food immediately with his head bowed. The other Alpha came through next and then Isaac. After a head count Harry left quietly, refusing the begs for him to sit among them. He made no excuse and left without a word.

 

*

 

“Bandana.”

“ _Holy-_ ,” Louis gripped the side of the door, nearly smacked his face from the surprise of Harry stood directly in front of him with no prior warning.

He felt like his skin had just fell off of his body, his heart doing it’s best to thump its way out of his ribcage while Harry looked at him like he was being a bit dramatic, a frown playing about above those judgmental eyes as he looked at Louis’ death grip on the handle.

“So, bandana.” He tipped his head, brandishing the paisley print of his accessory, “Yes or no?”

Still furiously trying to reign his pulse back in and just generally furious, Louis stared, hand on chest.

“…Gemma likes them so naturally I grow cautious of anything she approves,” Harry pressed, shifting his footing to lean his body weight and cross his arms against the wall. “So.”

Unpicking his joints from the door he was harbouring on for recovery, Louis took a breath and nodded, “It’s very nice, yeah.”

He pushed past Harry and made a weird sound in the back of his throat when he felt a hand in the crook of his elbow, “Hey-,”

“What?”

They stood, staring at the other, Louis breaking it first to look down the corridor at the masses of students filing out of each individual class, the bell ringing like a saviour to their academic strife.

“You’re weird.”

“And you’re just cashing in on this now or?,”

Harry used his grip to pull him back a step, coming up to full height himself to inspect Louis a little closer. His eyes were darting from his lips to his nose, to his eyes, back to his lips, then neck, nose, eyes, hair and once more lips. Louis licked them instinctively.

“What’s wrong?”

Louis rolled his eyes, “Nothing I’m late f-,” He started off again down the corridor only to be pulled back quite forcefully by nature’s power imbalance that lay between those unfairly thick arms and his spindly ones, “Harry you are absolutely- I’m _late._ ”

“Skip it.”

“Skip what?”

“Class.”

“Wha- _no_?”

It was adorable, the effort he put into wriggling from Harry’s unforgiving grip, choosing to ignore the alpha’s stoic expression as he did his best to not work up a minor sweat from the effort. He huffed, arm falling limp when he surrendered himself to the fact he wasn’t going anywhere.

“What’s the harm in one class?”

Louis’ eyes narrowed, the blue in them dazzling even in the dismal light of the hallway, “The same amount in one slap.”

“You left without saying goodbye,” Harry’s eyes flickered downwards for a second too clipped for Louis to take anything from it, long fingers loosening a little in his joint, “I should be slapping you. Using me like that.”

“Is that why you’re here? I give you a taster and now you’re addicted?” He snorted, looking a mix of goofy and kissable that Harry was inwardly amused at.

“I haven’t seen you in two days, haven’t heard from you.”

“I left you a note.”

“That’s what whores do,” His lips twitched, “I’ve yet to check my wallet.”

“Would a whore leave a flower?”

“Yeah thanks for that,” His hand dropped completely, no one having put up a fight for some time, “my bed stunk for two days.”

“Roses smell wonderful,” Louis’d been smiling despite his will for how long he doesn’t know, eyes glistening as he rolled them and slowly started his path to the class he was now officially late for. Harry was in tow, shooting a glare to the passing strangers who were looking at him weirdly.

“I was talking about you.” He joined at his side in two long strides, bumping their shoulders gracelessly, “So you’re dead set on going to this class? I can’t tempt you?”

Louis peered up at him, watching his long fingers scrub his chin before running them through his hair. It was almost a habit, routine or something, his hands never laying idle for long; he seemed to always need something to busy them with. If they were sitting he’d be jogging his knee, picking at a loose thread or massaging a muscle absentmindedly or cracking his knuckles, very rarely still.

“No sir.”

“Please don’t call me that.”

“What, sir?”

Harry sighed, “Yes.”

“Why?” The giggle that was littered through the question was a garnish to the treat, “You are next in line to the throne after all.”

It was a harrowing feeling he had in his stomach then, Harry’s heart plummeting as his head snapped down to look at the small boy smiling to himself carelessly as they took a corner at some speed they’d picked up in the past few seconds. Harry was searching his profile, heart jack hammering, looking for any sign of realisation of what he’d just said or a follow up to it, anything.

Then he remembered.

“Yeah,” His heart wasn’t giving up though, “guess it gives me a false sense of authority.”

He forgot about their little flirt. Their inside joke about Harry’s regal name.

“I don’t think it’s false,” Louis still wasn’t facing him as they came to a slow outside a frosted glass door with Dr. Yuland embellished on the panel, “you’re quite forthright and I need someone like that in my life, someone to rein me back in when I get a little crazy.”

Harry’s eyes were a little darker from this angle, regarding him cautiously for a moment, “Someone with a hard hand?”

“For sure. Remind me who’s boss.”

This boy was perfect. He had no idea what he was doing to him and that ignorance made it all even more perfect, his instincts proving hard to push back as he leant in and placed an arm on the door frame, blocking Louis from going any further just yet.

“Oh yeah?” His voice was low.

“Yeah, sometimes I get a little reckless, a little above my station,” Louis leant against the wall, feeling cornered but not uncomfortable as he welcomed Harry’s incline even further, a small giggle sitting at the back of his light voice, “need someone to put me back in my place.”

“You think I could do that?”

“If you let yourself.”

“I could hurt you.”

“Maybe I want you to.”

Harry almost growled, licked his lips, forgetting where he was as he leant in a little further, “I don’t think you do.”

Louis was the sweetest temptation to ever cross his path, yet the most frustrating. The boy peered up at him through thick, dark lashes, sucking gentling at his lower lip that it barely moved when it popped back out and pushed himself off the wall, closing the inches Harry left between them so their bodies were flush.

“There’s a burn inside of you Styles, an insufferable temper.”

Harry licked his lips, almost feeling the ghost of Louis’, eyes flitting to them once.

“Were you never taught it’s dangerous to play with fire?”

“But when do I ever do what I’m told?”

Louis’ scent was thick, and Harry’s dick responded immediately to it and his smart tongue. His jeans were tight so it wasn’t comfortable as he began to swell, fingers gripping the doorframe harder than either of them realised, staring down at Louis so close all he had to do was dip and take what he could.

“Louis? Oh-,”

His professor had stepped out of the door and gone to do an immediate back track, turning on his heels and adjusting his glasses as he tried to avert his gaze anywhere but him, “Erm, yes, thought I heard your voice. Qui-Quick time now, hurry along- class has beg _u_ -.”

The door closed before he finished the last word and Harry looked back to find Louis covering his mouth with a mischievous smile in his eyes, “Oh my gosh,” He giggled into his palm and rest his forehead on Harry’s shoulder, “Oh my gosh do you think he heard?”

“Only if he possesses sonic hearing.” Harry’s voice hadn’t levelled back out yet, heavily weighted against his chords. He hadn’t budged an inch. Still leaning into his arm braced on the jutted door way, only now he had a frown on his forehead because Louis couldn’t stop chuckling.

“Are you, _embarrassed,_ little Prince?” He used his other hand to brush his fringe back and lift Louis’ chin with two fingers, “Because that’s quite the contrary to the front you were putting up not thirty seconds ago.”

“About my fifty year old professor seeing me a second away from getting my mouth violated? Yes.” Louis inclined his head, clearing his throat, “Definitely.”

Harry was silent for a moment, fingers dropped to the arm that was hugging a couple of books to his chest, “You were going to kiss me?”

Whatever was there in the last moments was destroyed with the earth shattering smile that stretched onto the elder’s face, his canines sharp, his dimples prominent and his eyes crinkled so handsomely they were the only reason Louis didn’t slap him right there and then.

“Fuck you.” Rolling his eyes he was up on his tiptoes to land a chaste kiss to the corner of that smile that made his tummy dip so delightfully, only to be stopped and pulled back for a fuller kiss by larger hands at his jaw. It was warm and lingering, slow but hard enough to get the message across and he moaned into it, quite by accident getting carried away by the expert caress of Harry’s tongue.

Louis pulled away first, running his free hand over the mound of his pectoral, squeezing his nipple playfully before pecking him on the lips before Harry could hiss. He giggled, dipping underneath Harry’s caged arm before shooting him one last glance and taking off into his class.

Harry turned and leant against the lockers, his body weight slamming a metallic sound catapulting down the corridor as he calmed himself. The burn in his groin was spreading though, his fingertips prickling when he stretched them, cracking his knuckles against his palms.

“Fuck.”

He scrubs his face, feeling like a ball is getting wound tighter and tighter in the centre of his chest with each encounter.

" _Fuck._ "

 

 

_-Two weeks later -_

 

“So.”

“No Zayn, for the last time, I am not pregnant with his babies and no I have not met his Mother.” Louis spoke on autopilot, rolling his eyes at a snickering Liam across aisle. “Not officially, anyway.”

“How come I have met both parents and you haven’t even met one?” Zayn pouted, reading the label on the back of a bag of reduced sugar pop tarts with far more interest than was necessary.

Louis shrugged, “I don’t know. Doesn’t bother me that much.”

“He has a point though, you and Harry are practically an item right? Why is he dodging the parents?” Liam joined Zayn, plucking the pack from his grasp, “No sugar, no point.”

Throwing a pack of full fat goodness into their cart, Louis sighs as he walks slowly alongside, not really caring too much to look at what he’s supposed to be looking for, “I don’t think he’s _dodging_ anything, he’s pretty busy with college and stuff. Also his parents are always out aren’t they? And we’re not an item.”

“What so you’re just,” Zayn weighed up his hands, “casual… hook up buddies?”

Liam leant over and whispered, “Fuck buddies,”

Zayn snapped his fingers, pointed at Louis and repeated far too loudly, “Fuck buddies.”

Louis made it his mission to avoid eye contact with every single person on that aisle, reaching the end of it with speed way before the other two. He hadn’t even thought about what they were until now. Two people who obviously like each other but don’t want to _put a label on it_. He scoffed. It even sounded lame in his head.

“We haven’t,” Louis checked around himself, “we haven’t done anything yet.”

He caught Liam’s eye and motioned to the crackers, “Salt and Pepper, grab some, those are what I was telling you about. Bit of brie and _voila_.”

Liam dropped two packets, frowning and asking with a thankfully hushed voice, “So, you haven’t even sucked his dick?”

Louis shook his head. Swallowing.

“He hasn’t scoped you out back there?” Zayn was less gracious about it, an older lady catching the conversation and looking at Louis over exaggerative smile speculatively.

He elbowed his ribs before replying through gritted teeth, “No he has not. Jesus.”

It was amidst checking out the two for one offers on cookie doughs when he realised his friends had been too quiet for a little too long and he grew instantly suspicious, the hairs on his neck standing to attention. He turned and saw them both looking at him like concerned parents, stood there with the cart like that.

“What?”

“He hasn’t even fingered you?”

“ _Oh my goodness_ ,” Louis’ eyes widened, stalking off instantly, “Oh my goodness.”

Twenty minutes later they were done with Zayn’s shop. Consisting of mostly sugar and a month’s worth of saturated fat allowance. Oh and broccoli. Zayn had a thing for aldenté vegetables and broccoli was his current _thing_. Apparently it was great with mustard chicken.

“Right, parents are gone for a week ladies,” Zayn clapped his hands together after securing his belt, “let's go back and do whatever the fuck we want.”

“And by whatever the fuck we want, you mean let’s play video games until 3AM.”

“It’s the pre-party baby!”

Besides their ill faux way of approaching the subject, it had Louis thinking about how strange things actually were between them and how it must look to everyone around them. They hadn’t been out in public together apart from on school grounds and that doesn’t really count. They haven’t even had a date. People - Liam and Zayn - were bound to get a little itchy about it.

It wasn't for anyone to dictate what pace they moved at though. He'd seen Harry six times in the past two weeks and they'd all been very PG. Kissing was involved throughout all of them, a fondle here and there but they always ended it there. Even when they were clearly both very into it, bodies tight and wound with pent up frustration, Harry would pull away, like there was an invisible rope yanking him back every time. They didn't speak about it. But they both knew the other was conscious of this unspoken boundary.

Louis feared he may have underestimated how terrified of intimacy Harry actually was. Maybe he had every right to be.

He stared out the window silently as they pulled out the lot. He stayed quiet for the majority of the ride. His tummy feeling a little weird and nauseous.

 

 

*

 

 

“You’ll wear yourself out you know.”

She knew he probably heard her, but a reply was beyond possible right now. So she just spoke. She spoke until it reached a point where he’d have to reply, just to shut her up.

“You have training in under three weeks, you think it’s wise to beat your body up like this now?”

She circled the mats, squishing her socked feet into the foam every so often, listening to her Brother’s controlled, short sharp breaths as he jabbed. The sound of leather smacking skin, the force behind his strikes made for quite a satisfying sound and she didn’t mind it. Most people would flinch.

“It’s your final year, before you turn 21. This time next year, you’ll be sent away for the last time before you become leader, you can’t mess this up you know.”

His punches were harder than usual. She knew why.

“I don’t know why you’re torturing yourself like this Harry.”

His back was covered in sweat, the shirt he wore was the blackest of black but his sweat drenched him still and it was visible in a long line down the centre of his spine. The material was clinging to every ridge made available by the dense muscles in his upper body, his quick jabs, the motion of his body working hard and fast to break the leather got the material wrung to the broad scope of his torso.

“You know this isn’t healthy.”

His hand wraps were on but worn. She had no idea how long he’d been down here but judging by the looks of the marred material at his knuckles, the small blood stains, it’d been too long.

“Harry.”

His stamina was relentless. The leather of the punch bag wearing from repeated abuse.

“Brother.”

He was bare foot, a bandage around the knee of his longer leg, it must be causing him some bother.

“ _Alpha_!”

A growl erupted from her sibling that got her taking two steps back, eyes on him and nothing else as he strained his neck and veins surfaced from the effort. He steadied the bag and stepped back himself, shoulders heaving from the oxygen he was severely deprived of feeling akin to daggers slicing his lungs.

She wanted to help him. But there was nothing she could do. Like always.

So she stood and she waited. She watched as he slowly regained his breath, happy that he’d at least stopped hammering his fists, slowly peeling off his wraps, still not having said a word or made any indication he was going to. He sniffed lightly as he finished and bundled them up, flexing his fingers around them and rolling his wrists.

“What else, do you propose I do?” Harry croaked. His voice matched his body. Worn.

He was changing with every passing sun. Physically and psychologically. The shift between a young alpha and an honed one was coming on faster than it should and it scared her, truthfully. He was meant to excel; from 18 onwards he would change the most physically an Alpha would during their entire lifespan, yet this felt different. She felt like she were losing a grip on him.

“What d'you mean?”

He’d turned now, his brows pinched together, a veil of sweat covering every inch of his body. He pulled on the black bandana in his hairline, pushing it back and tightening it. He licked his lips, raising eyes black as night to his Sister who hoped the breath she took wasn’t caught. 

“If I don’t do this, what is the alternative?”

Remaining quiet, she observed his movements, hands swung loosely at his side, leant slightly to the right. His back was playing up. He wasn’t going to attack, his body language was clocking up signs that he were exhausted, she could hear his heart pumping the blood. But his eyes said very much otherwise.

He pointed at her, “You know the alternative.”

He drops the hand wraps and walks over to the bench, Gemma knowing what he was planning already.

“Please rest for the night, please Brother.” She was pleading, outright begging for him to stop chalking his hands, eyeing up the weights he had stacked on the bar ready to press. “Harry you’re going to exhaust yourself.”

“ _Gemma_.”

His Alpha was woken, but her Brother was still there.

“Harry have you thought about actually going through with it? How it might not be that bad? At first, sure I had my reservations but now I’ve seen you with him, how gentle you can be. You adore him. You would never hurt him.”

Harry drops the weight he were lifting, landing with such a crack it split the concrete floor. Harry didn’t flinch, Gemma covered her oversensitive ears from the ringing.

“You can guarantee that yeah?” He was approaching her now, his threatening stance unmistakable and she warned him to back off. But he persisted. “You can guarantee that if I allowed myself to sleep with him I wouldn’t give way to this- this  _thing_ , inside of me? That I’d be able to control all animalistic urges that his little body wouldn’t handle?”

“O- okay stop, Harry-,”

“You can _guarantee_ that I won’t tear him open, carry on through his pleas for me to stop because I can’t take full control of this feeling that I have towards him? You can say I won't leave his body broken, his flesh battered, his head so fucking screwed up that he’ll probably want to kill himself in a few months time just to get rid of the very memory of me?”

His voice left a smokey silence in it’s wake, something salty and textured about the air in between. Gemma wanted to cry, her throat aching from holding it back. He’d never spoken like that before.

“Not only that but he’s underage, you fucking moron. So three strikes to the monster his family already believe I am - seduce their underage human son, tick. Fuck him before he’s even legal, tick. Not only that, _rape_ him until he bleeds.” He hadn’t stopped staring, teeth gritting so hard he could taste blood on his tongue. “It’s bad enough I’m lying to Mum and Dad about this whole fucking thing.”

Gemma tucked a stray hair behind her ear, pale skin washed clean of any colour, looking sickly white.

“So, you gonna leave me to work out or shall we chat some more.”

Metal mechanics sounded in the distance and both sets of ears pricked up, turning towards the door at the top of the stairs. The gym was built in the basement level of the house, meaning no windows, just vents, but the conversations could still be very audible. So Harry’s nerves wracked, gulping as he picked up the scent of his Mother.

He closed his eyes slowly when he saw her feet descend the steps, a silent prayer that she hadn't picked up anything she shouldn’t have in passing.

“Harry Edward Styles.”

Gemma joined her Brother’s side, fingers winding around his wrist in anticipation. She was in this with him, regardless. But Harry said nothing. Just raised his chin at her approaching form, clutching her mobile phone.

“I asked you a question a couple of weeks back, about your friend Louis, did I not?”

He opened his mouth, but she cut him off viscously, “I also asked, time and time after that, when it would be that you would see to arranging a get together for us all to formally meet Louis, did I not?”

He rolled his lips, the dried sweat quickly getting replaced by fresh dread.

"I thought it suspicious you'd managed to keep having him as a guest in our house yet we'd yet to cross paths."

She studied him long over the rim of her glasses before removing them and turning her phone around for him to take, which he did and his complexion matched his Sister’s when he saw the photograph on the screen. Gemma’s grip tightened as she peered over, every ounce of emotion poured into the action.

His Mother’s voice ricocheted around his head as he forgot how to speak.

“Care to explain?”


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> __  
>  ***rubs hands and cackles lightly from the back of the room***   
> 

“You have to calm _down_.”

The house had seen turbulent times, mood wings that stretch beyond any teenage ritual, shrieks that would shatter glass and voices that would pierce drums. But when an Alpha lets off steam, even his pack run and hide. His native pack had returned home a couple days ago, so no one had to worry this time about witnessing the turmoil, it was only Gemma. Gemma who had to run after someone twice her size and dampen his rage.

Dylan knew the storm that’d be coming for him. He knew what he was doing by sending that picture to his Mother and he knew the consequences pending, it at least answered the huge question as to where he’d been hiding for the past week and why no one seem’s to be have been able to get a hold of him. He was a coward. And cowards didn’t belong in Harry’s pack.

The thing is, Harry _knew_. He knew it was a risk that night Louis came into his room. Falling asleep together like that. He saw the door cracked open, he even remembers thinking about how maybe he should get up and close it so no one would see them. A closed door means no one comes in, they knew the rules. But an open door is an invitation. And that’s what’s adding to the sting. The fact he’d let Louis soften him to the point of not caring enough. _Fuck it_ \- he’d thought. _Fuck it._ In the moment he didn’t just didn’t care; he had a snoozing boy in his arms and everything was too tranquil, too perfect for his lanky self to get out of bed and disturb it for the sake of a damn door. He even fell asleep soon after.

“This is what happens,” Harry rumbled, thundering his way up the stairs, “ _this is what happens_ when I let my guard down. I fucking warned him.”

“You’re not making sense, Harr-,” Gemma was quick to keep up, catching the door on it’s violent close after it banged off the wall, “- look just _stop_!”

Harry was clawing the roots of his hair, turning on the spot in his room. He didn’t know what to do next. He knew exactly what he wanted to do, fuck, he just didn’t know how to find him or where to even start.

“I said if he even dared try anything with Louis, if he even-,”

“Dylan.” Gemma pushed.

“He’s out. He’s gone.”

Arms out wide, Gemma begged him, “You can't hurt him.”

Harry pointed nowhere, teeth bared, “He took that picture of us, he knew he’d get away with it because all my senses were too wrapped up in Louis I wouldn’t know he was even there.”

“So, wait,” She couldn’t keep up, “he- he knew about you two? You said you warned him?”

“I don’t know.” Harry dropped his hand, looking to the floor, “Maybe.”

He begun pacing his carpet, as he always did, continuing, “At my return party, he was the one who warned me remember? Put the seed in my head that I may want to stay away because of his family. But of course, I didn’t. I think that fact that I couldn’t keep away from him despite this was a clear sign my feelings ran deeper than friendship.”

Now she was with him.

“But I warned him, Sister I warned him if he dared speak an ill word to him or try and fuck this over in any way, I’d-,”

“You’ll do nothing, Harry.”

Harry stopped pacing, back turned away from her. He turned his head so the only thing visible was his high cheekbone and furrowed brow, his eye was glistening wet, “Do nothing?”

“Yes, nothing. You’re gonna handle this properly.”

They knew, they both knew if Harry unleashed any attack on Dylan he’d feel a world of satisfaction but it would last mere moments, as it would only chalk up another mark against the very thing Harry was contesting earlier. It’d paint him the killer Louis believed their kind were. So the day Louis comes to find out who and what he is, because that day will have to eventually dawn, he will also learn about all of this and instead of feeling proud that Harry’s act of violent vengeance was in honour of them he will see it as a ruthless act of aggression from a hot blooded animal that can’t control it’s temper. Both were entirely solid truths, of course. But there is a strong chance Louis will see only one.

“Think about Louis.”

He already was, always is. He shook his head before peeling off his top that was thick from the stench of dried sweat, tossing it to the ground. He’d peel off his skin if it were possible. “I can’t stand and do nothing. What he’s done, Gemma it’s ruined everything.”

It wasn’t true, but not entirely inaccurate either. She stepped forward, avoiding the dirty t-shirt and tried her tested approach to sooth, “Why am I always the wave to your flame?” She rolled her eyes, a small smile stretching her rosy lips, full and curved like her Brother’s. He didn’t reciprocate any such thing just yet, eyes still planted firmly forward, chest heaving. “Talk to Mum.”

Harry scoffed, shaking his head, “She will never understand.”

“You underestimate her. It’s a little offensive.”

“There are _laws_ Gemma. A family like ours can get away with so much but an interspecies relationship?” Harry could hurl at the thought. He could see it all playing out in front of him now - the shame, the wide spread horror that a Styles had had intimate relations with a human, not least a hunter.

Maybe it would be better if that little detail wasn’t canon. If he were a regular human he’d still be damned, punished, stripped of the respect his family name has earned throughout generations but there wouldn’t be the panic that is going to set in thick from him being a hunter.

“What makes you think she will go public with this Harry?”

“What makes you think she won’t?” He looked at her, indignant with how ridiculous she was sounding.

He stepped aside and pulled the thin material from his hair, “I’ve let her down. I’ve let them both down again.”

Her hand dropped from his shoulder as she just watched, reverting back to what she always has been and from now on has a sickly feeling always will be - an observer. Watching this life unravel before her, doing her best with what she had to try and calm things along the way, be there in ways he needed her to be but didn’t always appreciate at the time and yet ultimately, remain a passer by. An audience member in her Brother’s very own horror story come to life.

“You are her Son, her _only_  Son.”

Harry froze at that, muscles seizing, glowering somewhere away from Gemma. She was thankful it wasn’t at her, realising what she’d just said she didn't think she'd handle the look in his eyes.

“I didn’t mean it like that.” Her heart stooped.

Surprisingly the boy was silent. She felt it though, the pang in his chest, the tension riddling his bones and the skip in his heart beat when she mentioned it, her words slipping into and adding to the colossal sticky hot atmosphere. Harry dropped his head, walking over to the walk in wardrobe and pulled the doors gently, retrieving a fresh towel. He didn’t bother closing it as he avoided looking at Gemma on his way to his bathroom, almost making it the whole way until-

“Do you think he would be as stupid as me?” 

She’d never felt as broken as now. Even with what she knows is in store. Covering her mouth to stifle a sob she hoped Harry wouldn’t turn to see her tears.

"You think he'd be stronger than I am? Be able to fight off this curse."

"Edward?"

Harry nodded, jaw visibly tighter than before his name was spoken.

“I think he would be proud of you Brother. He would think of you as strong, not weak. He would’ve done a better job at helping you than I-,” Her voice was too broken by then, unable to muffle her distress she covered her face with both hands, silky soft tresses of hair falling forward, “I’m so sorry.”

Harry was by her side in a flash, paused at the thought of his less than attractive odour suffocating her but it was gone the moment he wrapped his arms around her slight frame, engulfing her shoulders as he pulled her into him. He hushed her gently, squeezed her into him, “You have nothing to apologise for. I wouldn’t be half as sane, half the Alpha, if it weren’t for you.”

She shook her head, turning her cheek to press against his collar bone as she let him hold her, sobs wracking her body.

“There have been many a crossroads in my life that if it weren’t for you, I’d have taken the wrong turning every time. Many nights where I’d considered completing the job with taking my own life that you have stopped me from, without even realising.”

She pulled back at that, eyes wild.

“I love you so much. Please never doubt that.”

She shook her head, tears still streaming but her mind uncomprehending on the information she’d just taken in, “Harry…”

“Regardless of how I treat you sometimes.”

“Harry,” She shook her head again, “Why…”

Ever since his Brother’s decease, it’d been a dark cloud hanging over his head. From that day on the glass was always half empty, the day was soon to end and his mood rarely lifted when behind closed doors. Many thought it was just his temper, his teenage alpha just getting the better of him - the Styles blood line had a tick for an easy rage. But Harry got hit with the angry stick a little too often, his twin Brother, Edward never stood a chance. His death was an accident, Harry didn’t mean to do it, but every time his Birthday rolls around, five years since now, there’s a feeling throughout the house. No one speaks of it, Edwards’ name is never even mentioned and it burns him from the inside out; stripping another layer of his humanity every time around.

“I seldom deserve good in life, Gemma,” Harry smiled, the glint of his own sadness building at the rim of his eyes as he peered down at her. “The prophecy is my punishment there’s no escaping it, one way or another I’m going to -”

“ _Don’t you say such disgusti-_ ,”

“I killed my own Brother. It haunts me every day, it should. My temper, it’s always the problem and always will be.” Harry shook his head, bent to apply his puckered lips to her forehead. She held onto his wrists so tight when he tried to pull away, squeezing her eyes shut.

“It’s not your fault,” Her voice wobbled, her hands trembling despite her rigid hold, “you can’t blame yourself for what happened.”

“It’s a paradox Gemma, the more I try and avoid it the more Louis is there, the more I’m pushed towards him, the more it hurts. When I give in and indulge him it’s _impossible_ , impossible to keep away and it burns when I do. I know he’s damaging to my health, I know it’s against laws, I know it’s going to thwart my parents to know I’ve caused another hell in this family yet I cannot _stop_. I can’t not keep going back. It’s impossible now. You know the only escape, someone, eventually-,”

“No, no, _no-_ Harry they’re going to understand, tell them everything! You have to tell them everything,” She was hysterical, her nose streaming, her eyes puffy and red as she stood their holding Harry’s wrists as he held hers, “they _have_ to understand it’s Mum and Dad, they- they, just don’t know the full story please, _please-_ ,”

“Okay,” It was the lowest unpleasantry to see his Sister so tortured, he pulled her in briefly again, patting down the hair at the back of her head, his bare fingers absent from rings that’d sometimes catch in the strands, “Shhh, sh, okay.”

Eventually, Harry twisted from her hold, there was nothing anyone was ever going to say that would convince him otherwise, but he thought it cruel to keep fighting her on something that was so sore, a wound that will always be so raw and open for their family so he just nodded. He kissed both her hands and told her it’ll be fine.

“Harry?”

He was half way to the bathroom again, towel in his hand, “Hmm?”

“Please talk to Mum. Promise me, you’ll talk to her.”

He hated promises. He broke the last one he made and it shattered his family’s foundations. But how could he refuse her when things were turning so bad again?

“Promise.”

 

_-Two days later-_

 

Louis’ phone buzzed on the kitchen counter right next to his Father. It was a rarity to have his Dad home on time for dinner so whenever he was they’d make a real meal, go all out with two or three courses and sit around the table and have family discussions like they do in functional families.

“Louis!” Mark Tomlinson, the head of the household, with his wife’s pink pinstriped apron wrapped around his waist hollered from the stove as he angled away from the violent spit, “Your phone Son!”

He vaguely hears a distant response, probably from the toilet. But then, covering the angry pot with a lid he wafts away the steam and squints at the screen to read the name he saw, the name that makes his teeth grind and his core tense.

He picked it up, staring at the device as the line rung and rung, vibrating in his hands. He was right there. The boy they’d been after all this time, the family he’d needed a reason to infiltrate for without one they’d be sure to seal their own deaths by going in unwarranted.

Louis came trotting down the stairs, scrubbing his fringe back and sighing as he pat his pockets. “Uh, where’s my phone?”

And there he was: the justification to infiltrate. The reason they needed that would finally allow them to cross that line and touch a family that was deemed untouchable, in the innocent form of his very own blood.

“Harry.”

Louis only just saw his Dad lift his phone then, taking it and nodding at the screen with a small voice, “Probably wondering if I want to go round or something.”

“So things are,” Mark went about collecting four plates from the tall cupboards, “going well between you two then?”

The hum his Son returned wasn’t good enough for him. “You don’t sound convinced.”

With an open mouth and distracted mind Louis lifted his face form gawking at the screen, clamping his jaw shut instantly and clearing his throat, “Y-yeah, things are running smoothly.”

“To plan?” His father was quick to clarify placing each plate down systematically on the table, lining up the cutlery squarely with glass place settings.

Tapping send Louis rocked forward on his heels and pocketed his phone. He kept his hands stuffed into his pockets and nodded, chewing the inside of his cheek as he pretended the back yard had something far more interesting going on than his Father’s dinner prep. “Yeah, yeah, to plan.”

“He doesn’t suspect anything?”

That ball was back in his tummy, that sickly sinking sensation that he knows he deserves. Knows that he won’t get rid of.

“Not a thing.”

“Excellent.” With his face turned away, Louis closed his eyes at the single buzz in his pocket. “Excellent, he hasn’t been making you go on any more runs I hope? When I got the report you were out jogging with him at the lake and you passed out I have to admit, it took me a lot to remain stagnant Louis.”

“That was like two weeks ago now Dad, more I think.”

“I don’t care how long ago it was, I barely see you and you don’t report back to me a much as I’d like so I have to rely on my team to keep an eye on things.” He untied the pinafore from around his was it and hung it back on the door hook, just as he found it, running long spindly fingers down the creases to make it perfect. “The thought of you having to fake intimacies with him is ghastly enough but then he has you out there pushing you to your physical limits. You don’t have the disgusting, unnatural stamina of a beast. All to satisfy his engorged ego, like I’ve told you time and time over.”

His Mother joined them, drifting into the room with a wide smile. The way she moved was almost weightless, hair always neat, make up set to perfection. She glided over to Louis slumped against the marble white side and placed a soft kiss to his cheek, “Hungry?” Without giving him chance to answer she went about fussing the table Mark had just arranged, “Have you done enough?”

“Yes dear of course. Is Daisy still on the couch?”

“She’s finishing up watching her show, give her five more minutes.” Her voice was soft, her hand softer as she came up being him and rubbed his shoulders through his grey shirt, “Smells incredible honey.”

Louis quickly pocketed his phone when he saw both sets of eyes on him.

“Well?”

“Sorry? Uh- sorry I was- what did you-,”

His Mother’s voice was sickly sweet when she cocked her head, “You were texting him?”

The smile dropped from her eyes but stayed on her full lips, shine with freshly applied balm.

“He’s picking me up at 8.”

“Mhm. You’re staying the night?”

Louis’ voice was sticky, these conversations always felt so wrong and misplaced. “I’m not sure. Probably. Maybe.”

“Okay - oh _hi_ little baby, hello, hi,” She cooed over the little girl that’s wobbled in on chubby legs, making grabby hands on her Mother’s dress, “let’s get you seated and ready to eat, does that sound nice? Yeah? Does that sound nice?”

“Keep them closed remember.” His Father smacked his hip on the way past. The colour faded from his face. “Okay?”

“Dad.”

He didn’t need reminding of the fact he was trying to abstain from sex from the guy, all to get him more and more frustrated to the point where it will viable for them to attack and prove that he’d been trying to get into their Son’s pants. He didn’t need that reminder, in that way, from his own Father. It made him feel all kinds of cold, empty like an object, a device that they’re using to further themselves.

“I know what these horny Alphas are like, you may not like him Son but believe me he’ll have his ways to make you believe you do.”

Watching the steaming food being dished up he took note of how his appetite had depleted.

He took his seat at the table, miserable and automatically held out his hands for prayer, closing his eyes to the image of hard green eyes and large, soft hands.

 

 

*

 

It was late in the evening, the Autumn breeze whipping up leaves lightly outside adding to the resolute coziness of the inside where a fire roared and and laughter cackled, Dylan and a couple of his friends were nestled in the corner of his local pub, a place where they mainly come to relax away from home. The owners know he’s underage, but they were bullied into the odd beer here and there after Dylan had threatened the human owner under the Styles’ name. Tonight was one of those nights, especially with the company of Ansel, another alpha in Harry’s pack. He was a bad influence among most but the worst on Dylan, who was easily swayed.

“And I believe I just _owned_ your ass my friend.” Ansel bowed, folding his six foot three stature in half. “I hope you accept your defeat just as gracefully.”

The beta he were rivalling - Tom - wasn’t part of the pack, he was from out of town and wouldn’t be the sort accepted by Harry either way. He was all the bad parts of Ansel, deceitful, manipulative and arrogantly charming with little to no care for other’s opinions all rolled into one reckless young being. An outcast, a lone wolf. Ansel was attracted to him because of that, secretly hoping to break away from the restraints of the pack one day to start his own with wolves alike; he picked up on Dylan’s watered down alliance early on and has been picking him apart ever since. He was the one who encouraged him to show Anne, Harry’s Mother, the photograph.

“Whatever goober,” He rolled his eyes, tried to smack him with the snooker cue but he were too quick. “Your arms are the length of an average person’s legs, the odds were stacked against me.”

“Excuses?” Ansel cupped his hand around his ear, “Yep, that’s all I hear!”

Dylan watched these idiots from the booth he was occupied with two young females, both omegas, both underage and both very much naive. They were giggling at Ansel, each secretly competing to grab his attention before the other but neither of them realised they were the wrong gender to do so.

“You’re both dumb as fuck.” Dylan added, looking at the bottom of his glass as he emptied the bitter liquid down his throat.

A voice called, far from the other side of the bar near the entrance, “Not as dumb as you.”

Slamming the glass down on the mat, the other four peered to the person who’d just entered the building, the door swinging close to the small blizzard outside. His presence brought the gentle chitter chatter to a low din. So low, that the music coming through the speakers could actually be heard properly for once and people craned their necks to see who it was that’d brought the evening to a stand still, hushed whispers and curious eyes hoping to get a look at what business the young Alpha had here.

“Mr Styles,” Harry ran his hand through his hair to rustle out the death buds that the wind had furnished him with. He nodded to the bar tender who had a towel stuffed in a glass, mid- polish, “To what pleasure do I owe, s-so unannounced?”

In a low voice he assured the tender he wouldn’t be long, apologising curtly for the small scene he may be about to cause. He led himself around the far end of the bar without another word, the scent too rich for him to be mislead, leaving the bar tender able to do nothing but accept and watch. It was rare to see a Styles sibling out in public alone like this, never mind in a place like this and so he felt upmost obliged to leave him to do as he wished.

“Well, well, well my loyal friend.” Harry was in the corner they occupied in no time, his presence making it a whole lot more claustrophobic than before. He opened his arms wide. “Found you at last.”

The tender noticed how many phones were suddenly appearing from pockets and did his best to silently swat them away, waving his hand to tell people to not. This was the first time of a few he’d get the pleasure of hosting the young Alpha under his roof and didn’t want it tainting by compromising his privacy.

“Harry,” Ansel had left his cue and stepped forward with an open hand.

Harry shut him down instantly, “Did I speak to you?” His head remained bowed, looking at the quivering beta who’d ushered the young females to the other side, already anticipating a blow.

Yet Ansel tried again, cautiously offering, “There are other ways to -,”

“Your insolence tires me Ansel but you speak some truth,” Bracing a large hand on the back of the booth he bent over Dylan who couldn’t shrink back more if he tried, dipping his voice, “because there are other ways to deal with this and I promise you I’ve gone over them in my head extensively, exhausting every possible angle. Imagined what it’d feel like to crush your skull between my palms and see your vessels burst, taste your blood where it runs most thick as I tore out your oesophagus. How much pleasure and little guilt I’d feel if I were to watch you suffocate and choke and beg as I _squeezed_ the last breath from your scrawny little neck.”

“Fuck, easy man,” The beta, Tom, whom Harry had no allegiance to and thus far had never met put a hand on his bicep to pull him back which lasted a full second before it was snatched up and twisted to a point that if Harry chose to move a centimetre more it would snap.

Tom shreiked in pain, brought to his knees with his arm still in his hold as his breath caught in his throat.

“Beg your pardon?”

“ _Harry_!” Ansel had to speak up, fleeting, furious glances between the boys bent limb and Harry’s cruel grip as if he could stop it by mind power alone.

Tom was spitting silent curses, face contorted by agony as he side eyed the monster above, “ _F-fucking, c-cunt_ ,”

Before Ansel had time to step in and buffer Harry flicked his wrist and the sickening philistine crunch of bones cracking had sounds of horror behind them and several people up and leaving. The boy’s cry was ear-splitting as Harry let him go, eyes hot and heavy back on a cowering Dylan.

“So believe me when I say I’ve thought about _all_ the different ways of doing this, all the ways I could show you just how serious I was when I warned you about any betrayal you dared to make - do you remember that day?” Harry realigned Dylan’s line of vision, which had dropped to watch Tom in alarm being comforted and hushed by Ansel, “You remember that?”

It was meant to be a nod but it merged poorly with his body’s tremors, so Harry demanded words.

“Ye-yeah,” He nodded again, feeling the two fingers turn into a whole hand as they snaked round his jugular uncomfortably tight, “ _Alpha_ , yes Alpha I remember.”

“Good.” Harry eased up, nodding with him. “Consider this a courtesy. You are banished from the pack.”

Further silence fell around them, if it weren’t already harrowing it was unbearable now he’d declared his exile, a few distance gasps sounded from the crowds who could hear more clearly than others. One was much closer though, Ansel. However he knew better than to rival Harry’s decision in an uncapped state of mind. The effort it bore to remain this calm - this was tepid for Harry - showed in his eyes, the acidic colour that was simmering in his iris, the vein that protruded along the side of his neck - anyone would be a fool to contest him.

“You cause Louis, my family or packs any further strife I shan’t be so gentle next time, understood?”

If it weren’t for the low lighting Harry would’ve registered the tears in the beta’s eyes. Not that he cared either way.

There was shuffling behind him and Dylan looked to it momentarily before snapping back up to his Alpha. His ex-alpha and desperately he tried to get a word before he was dismissed for good, “May I s-say-,”

“You say nothing.” Harry regained his full height, looked at the two girls, “You take your whores and you leave this establishment with this fine man who risks his license just to serve you your highs.”

“And you,” Harry brandished two ringed fingers towards the taller Alpha, “Where the fuck have you been for all these weeks?”

He didn’t appreciate Harry’s gruff nature but had no right to argue it, as much as he dreamt about overthrowing him one day today was not that day and he’d be unwise to pick a fight any time soon, so his mouth remained idle and his intentions zip locked. “Busy, Alpha.”

“Too busy to come to our aid?” Harry already knew the answer without having to ask. He only pushed it because it made his blood boil when he thought about it, the truth of his very own rallying against him rather than confiding in him.

“You’d rather me be false to you?”

Harry tipped his head, running a rough hand through his thick hair, “You with him on this?”

“Yes.”

Harry nodded. He didn’t bother awarding Dylan or these three unknown wolves with any eye contact as he scanned the crowds behind him briefly then turned back to Ansel who’s heart had begun to race for the first time in a long time, he knew what was coming. “Then I suggest you reflect on where your loyalties lie and reconsider any further action you may want to take before returning to my roof. Or else you’ll suffer the same fate.”

Harry tapped his knuckles on the table, sealing the threat right between his eyes before he backed away. “I’ll see you at Torngat Ansel.”

The bar tender pretended to get back to work immediately when he saw Harry heading back towards the exit, striding so quickly past the bar that it made him jump from his skin when there was a slam on top of it. He turned around with a broom in both hands, hands gripping the wood so vehemently it may splinter.

His brow twitched when he saw Harry’s palm slapped on top of a few hundred dollar notes.

“Compensation for the alcohol you’ve wasted.”

He left immediately, the entire room uprooted from his departure.

Outside he trudged up to his blacked out vehicle, swinging the keys on their loop as he beeped it open and nearly tore the door off when he opened the driver side.

“Good?”

The sound of the door closing again felt like it should be, like a seal of approval. He’d done what he came to do so it should be fine, he shouldn’t be holding onto this feeling like there was something else left un-done. Or un-said.

The sound of that angelic little voice however did help his fuse.

Sighing he fired up the engine and looked into those blue eyes, so honest and wide, blinking at him and waiting patiently for an answer as he untucked his knees from his chest to buckle his belt.

“All good.” He answered, wrapping a warm palm over his thigh and squeezing gently. “All good.”

Louis felt a little hazy from the pressure of it, staring at the sheer span of finger to thumb compared to his thigh. He licked his lips as Harry started to reverse one handed and peered at him, “You sure you weren’t robbing money instead of paying it back?”

Harry’s jaw started working around a piece of gum, throwing them into the container after Louis politely declined a strip. “-Makes you say that little prince?”

“Well after about a minute of you being in there quite a few people left. And like, they weren’t being slow about it either.” Louis missed the weight on his thigh, something oddly possessive about it he’d never realised he liked so much until now and shuffled against the leather. “Looked like they’d been scared stupid.”

“Hm,” Harry smirked, looking down the long stretch of road ahead, “No idea.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [This](http://images6.fanpop.com/image/photos/37800000/-AMAs-2014-harry-styles-37859434-240-400.gif) is what we're dealing with. [This](https://m.popkey.co/acb09c/qrQa0.gif) too, with a grey suit. All seems too good to be true right now, I know. Such bliss.

_\- Two months later -_

 

Winter was here and it was more than a cold slap across the face. The season had grown viscous this time around, the wind felt like tiny shattered pieces of glass when it hit your skin, scraping along the surface with it’s icy tendrils and almost taking your whole body with it. The rain fall was near enough forgotten about now November had settled in. It was all about the snow. Snow was the main attraction that brought people to Canada this time of year but the ironic thing about it was there were zero things attractive about it. Especially when you live in it.

A foot fall of snow in one day marked the first of many for Louis which meant wellington boots were his best friend. Wading through snow that came up to your knees was fun for the first day or two then you started counting down the days until spring.

“Fucking snow, fucking stupid weather, little specks- _oof -_ s’the point in it anyway? Literally, no point in-,”

“Good morning Louis!”

Was it?

“Hey Mitch,” He waved politely, stretching his arm above his head at the mail man.

Kicking the snow away from the step stool he pushed it forward, propping one foot on it as he balanced carefully the two large trash bags in either hand, before dumping them inside. He closed the lid and took a breath, sighing. Why his parents hadn’t listened to him and moved the dumpsters to the side of the house under the cover so he didn’t have to make such a song and dance of cleaning the snow off of the lids every damn time, he didn’t know.

“Any cheques?”

Louis tipped his head, squinting against the winter sun.

Mitch guffawed, his cute beer belly lugging with him as he trifled through the wedge of letters in his hands, “Well son, you never know. One of these days you may just get lucky and cash in from a distant relative.”

Louis thanked him for the wad of letters - all boring correspondence for his Parents as far as he could see and wished him a good day, before turning to trudge back to the drive where said marvellous Parents had shovelled the majority of the snow from to clear way for the cars.

Inside was best. Inside was always best. Stepping through to the kitchen he let the shivers wrack his nerves and shake off the cold. He flicked the kettle on. It was only midday and it would be his third cup of the day. Thinking about it now Mitch was a little late with delivery this morning.

The snow. Always, the damn snow.

He left the letters in the box where he always did and flopped down on the sofa in the front room, keeping his ears open to hear that familiar click. A second later he was joined by Rusty, the newly adopted robin that had made a home for itself inside the house. Not officially, by nature that would be tricky for the little fellow but he’d become oddly tame and liked to swing by every now and again, his breast a little more orange than the usual bright red, which was how Louis founded his name.

“Hey bud,” He grinned lazily, peering at the bird sat on the inner window cill, freshly fluffed feathers, ticking it’s head, “cold isn’t it.”

The days were hard to fill. School had broke for Winter break, so he’d got another two weeks of boredom left. Well, one. Christmas was in a week and Zayn was due back in a few days from his and Liam’s trip up to the mountains. He’d decided not to go in the end, his Father had advised him against it and wouldn’t argue so he’d waved them off with a promise to reply to all texts.

So he had that to wait for. His Birthday was also in a week, Christmas Eve. It wasn’t a blessing like most people thought it was; the idea of it seeming romantic and wonderful but the reality was quite the opposite. The Jesus jokes were repetitive and boring. He was running out of ways to try and react like it’s the first time he’d heard that one. Plus the whole ‘combined’ presents thing was weird and a little offensive, actually.

Nevertheless he was still bored. Everyone was spending time with families. Those who had normal, healthy families. His Father was a doctor so he barely got to see him anyway, even less now the colder months rolled in with the percentage of elderly patients and ice-related injuries skyrocketing. His Mother was a bank manager so again, Christmas being the highest grossing time of year, she was eyeball deep in her own work. So here he was. With a bird and endless amounts of tea and snow.

“Netflix.” Louis turned his mouth up, picking up the remote from where he’d left it. Didn’t even have to look to check it were still there, barely moved his wrist an inch to collect it. He waited for the red screen to load, tapping his foot that was hanging over the arm rest of the leather couch.

His phone was on the table. The table was glass and would’ve made an awful high pitched zipping sound if anything had come through, yet he still checked it. Just like he’d been doing for the past two weeks, several times a day, and was greeted with the same old thing, several times a day - nothing.

If you side step the stupid memes he received from Liam and the snapchat’s from Zayn showing him how much fun they were having and how much he was not, the person who he _really_ itched after, still held radio silence.

Harry’d been gone for two just under three months. A couple of weeks later than he’d said and it was nagging him. Not because he’d needy because he’s not. Not entirely. Not like that. But there had been no texts, no phone calls, absolutely nothing to indicate that he was even still _alive_.

Pulling himself up at the sound of the kettle he abandoned Netflix to go grab his laptop from the side instead, Rusty tweeting somewhere in the background until he saw a beige blur pass him by and straight into the kitchen, landing on top of one of the pans instead.

“You’re too trusting Rusty old pal,” Louis shook his head, pouring the boiled water into his cup, leaning away from the steam. “I could easily stuff you in a pie and bake you.”

The bird chirped, ruffling it’s wings.

“Well okay, how about the cat?” He brandished a spoon at it, “I could feed you to the cat?”

Rusty hopped from over one pan to the next until he reached the end and perched atop the other window cill, a little chirp as he turned away again.

“Alright fine you’re right, I don’t have a cat.”

Louis propped open his laptop, letting his tea brew for a bit, deciding a little christmas shopping was in order to distract him from his temporary lull in well, _life_. He opened the page that hadn’t been closed since the day he found it a week ago. It was an old auction shop with vintage pieces sometimes worth fortunes. Everything from books to vanity mirrors to old cabinets and jewellery, it was easy to get lost in the host of exclusive items and their stories.

It was a particular item that had snapped up his attention the second he laid eyes on it, a particular face coming to mind with it that he thought would suit no other. Nor should it, this item requiring that special quirk - when he says special he doesn’t know if it’s bad or good - to carry it off. He could almost envision the look they’d give him, the arched eyebrow, the small smile that they’d be fighting every effort _not_ to let blossom.

The price tag wasn’t modest and if he were honest his parents would probably batter him into an early grave if they ever find out, but the smile he knew he’d get at the end of it was enough motivation regardless.

After a week of deliberating, it was in that second, with a supporting tune being sung by Rusty he laid down the deposit and reserved in store to go and pick up within the next few days.

 

*

 

Christmas Eve.

The big day was tomorrow.

It had been an entire _week_ , a grand total of three months and three days since Harry had left and all he’d gotten from the fucker was a text confirming his arrival at wherever the fucking fuck he’d gone - he couldn’t remember the name of the institution he’d made out he’d got a placement at in the UK, some big corporate brand he really should know the name of but, you know. Then, a follow up of two wholesome, thoughtful texts that followed one after the other saying so sweetly:

 **H: ‘Apologies, I lost track being out here. I miss you.’**  
**H: ‘It’s been a week and I’m already considering turning back just to see you.’**

Then not a day later:

 **H: ‘Won’t be able to communicate while I’m here, against my will, I’m sorry Louis I will be in contact as soon as I am able.’**  
**H: ‘Love. x’**

And little did he know that was going to be his fill of Harry charitable Styles for the next two and half months.

So heaving himself out of bed that morning to the sound of his baby sister giggling and jumping up and down on his bed with his Mother right there to catch her, wasn’t as cute as it could’ve been.

“Happy Birthday Lou Lou,” His Mom’s voice got all weird and squeaky when Daisy was about, “I think that’s what she’s trying to say.”

A three year old. Yes, that’s exactly what she’s probably wanting to say. Being brought in here by force of hand.

It was supposed to feel so much _nicer_ than this, he was turning eighteen - a momentous occasion by far and so he should feel so much more energetic and keen. But the absence of one individual was making it all very drib drab. For the long run of the morning his smiles were forced, accepting his half witted hugs from his parents and his baby sister’s non committal drivel as she watched and clapped as he opened his presents during breakfast.

“So dinner,” His Father announced, slapping his hand on the back of Louis’ shoulders, “we have reservations at Hawksworth.”

_Hawksworth._

Louis froze around a mouthful of green tea, the difficult decision whether to spit or swallow resulting in his tongue burning.

He swallowed, as to not be dramatic, winced at the heat and set down his mug carefully.

“As in the Rosewood?”

Mark couldn’t look more smug if he tried, the smile on his face stretching from ear to ear as he confirmed to his Son who looked borderline petrified. “Yes Louis. And to your next questions, _yes_.”

The Rosewood Hotel, one of the most elite, high-end establishments in Vancouver. It boasted a recently refurbished 1920’s decor with all modern day amenities, rooms started at 600 a night and last minute reservations - unless you were somebody, or somebody’s _somebody_ , were a definite no go.

The restaurant it housed is obviously one of the most renowned and exclusive, the fish they sourced for the morning was done during the night and early hours and they had fresh shipments throughout the day to ensure absolute quality. It was fine dining at the extreme.

Louis remembers these factors all so clearly because of a certain conversation he had with a certain someone a while ago. It was a brief conversation over apple and cheese with pickle, Harry pushing Louis to try his favourite Merlot wine that ‘really brought out the oak’ that Louis’d told him his Birthday, and Harry had continued to inform him how it’d been tradition for fourteen years now for his family to hire out the entire restaurant and necessary rooms to house their family and important guests for the evening and host a tremendous event at this particular hotel. A festive occasion that the young Alpha quite frankly, hated.

Louis’d listened in awe, jaw dropping at the extent of such grandiose and how Harry didn’t bat an eye when reeling of bits of information about pricing and drunken moments of the Mayor when he came that one time.

Bottom line, Louis knew what his Parents were up to.

They’d managed to somehow wriggle their way an invitation - which Louis will be very interested to find out how - into this event and kept it from him until today because they know what he’s like. To any onlookers it looks like they’re giving Louis the best evening, under the most exclusive roofs all in the name of his Birthday celebrations. But really, it’s so they can permeate the Styles’ family even more. Get close to them under the warm glow of the glamour and twinkle of lights and the easy flow of alcohol and laughter, learning more, engaging as much as they can so when the day comes they have an irrefutable plan of attack.

“But, isn’t this a bit dangerous? They know who you are, they know that you have hunted in the past a-and-,” Louis paused. If he came across too bothered in the wrong light, he’d give himself away. He looked to Daisy who was chewing her thumb something rancid and back to his Dad who was collecting the dishes. “What I’m struggling with, is how you managed to steal this? And why. Why would they let you in?”

Mark dropped the dished into the bowl, suds splashing as he braced both arms on the side, “You sound a little ungrateful, Son. This is one of the biggest parties of the season that we’ve gotten us.”

Fingers meandering lightly along the rim of his mug, Louis’ blood grew hot.

“But you’re not doing it for me,” He wasn’t looking at anything but his own fingers, voice smaller than he would’ve liked, “It’s… I don’t know.”

There was that feeling back in his stomach again. That guilt. That terrible, terrible dipping feeling that he had this morning when he saw yet another day dawning with no messages, the same feeling he got when he sees Harry’s face light up every time he kisses him first but doesn’t want to come across any degree of coy so he sniffs and looks away with that smile. The same one he’s going to have tonight, even though he’s not going to be there.

“Plus Harry is still away, remember? So you won’t see him with me at a-,” Louis had to grip the side of his chair when his Dad got up in his face all of a sudden, Daisy’s joyful murmurs and giggles stopping.

“You are truly ungrateful Louis.” His eyes were cold this close, dark, unlike his Mother’s but not warm, just deep black holes of nothing that you won’t look away from even if you wanted. “You are going to have a wonderful night with good food and good company and by the end of it, you will be sorry you skipped the thank you’s this morning.”

He made sure Louis clamped his mouth shut, registering the mild fear in his eyes before he stood back up and released his cruel grip on Louis’ slim wrist, unpinning it from the chair.

“Besides,” He continued, clearing his throat, “That baby wolf isn’t our main concern. We need to get close to the parents, prove that we can ‘co-exist’, just like every other jointless braindead human out there who chooses to. To answer your question, when word got through that it was me who treated Gemma and Harry after their accident Des and Anne were shocked to say the least, yet surprisingly gracious about it. Offering an invitation as a means - in their eyes - to the start of a new respect.”

He scoffed, walking around the island to retrieve Daisy from her chair who was still on the weird side of quiet with wide eyes and still limbs. “They think that because I treat their children with the same steadiness and lack of judgment that I do for the rest of my patients, that we’d be willing to build bridges. Seeing this lustrous event as an opportunity to change our minds, if you will.”

As far as most were concerned, this offering of an olive branch that Anne and Des seemingly had no reason to offer was a sign of the utmost humanity and grounded respectability anyone could exude. The more Louis learnt about Harry and his family, the brief interaction with his pack - or Gemma’s baking class, as Harry believes Louis believes, the idiot - the things he hears about their way of life for his kind and their traditions, the more Louis starts to believe there is more humanity, more good laced through their supernatural veins than his own.

“Okay.”

“Okay?” His Father enquired, eyebrow twitching up as he bounced Daisy onto his hip, “Okay meaning you’re going to behave and not grow bored without the disgusting attention from your little leach?” He didn’t bother looking back to Louis as he started blowing little kisses to her and walked towards the door, “It’s going to be an exceptional opportunity so you best not ruin it.”

His heart was restless, his knee too, drumming up a rhythm beneath the table as he took a quiet breath before answering.

“Can’t wait.”

 

*

 

Walking in the room you just know, instantly. Louis knew, just by the scent in the lobby, that this is the evening of all evenings. The stuff of legends. Maybe they should have that sign-posted outside. If the extravagant build of the hotel, the array of blackened vehicles lined up outside the valet, or the few snap happy individuals with their cameras posted at the media pen weren’t enough to go by - ever since the Mayor attended that one year it’s been an event fit for reporting - then there should definitely be a sign outside. “Money.”

Nothing else needed. If you don’t have it then you’re not getting in.

The second the introductions are started, Louis has also already figured why Harry rolled his eyes continuously at Louis’ looks of amazement and called the whole thing, ‘a farce.’

Not that the people he were shaking hands with weren’t lovely, because they all were, even if most of them were intimidating because of their social stature or title or just the way they looked at Louis as if they knew about their Parent’s incentive and were just being polite. They were all lovely, but the scale of it, the pretentious feel from the glittering ceilings lights to the table attendants who wouldn’t even let you park your bottom by yourself; it was easy to understand that when you’re part of the family who is hosting this entire thing the pressure and spotlight can be a little if not overly exhausting.

Not only a member, Louis thought to himself, smiling small at the memory of Harry pinning him down to the bed playfully that afternoon, the _heir_. He’d nuzzled his neck and told him behave, asked him if he’d misplaced his manners in front of royalty.

Of course it was backlash off of their private joke, but Louis’ stomach still flipped with the dismal reality of just who true that statement was to Harry’s life. And how Harry couldn’t confide in Louis about any of it. Because, you know.

The toast was eccentric and actually quite amazing. It was the first time Louis’d physically been in the same room as Desmond Styles and he was nothing like he’d pictured. Like Harry he envisioned him to be grand in physical virtue, strong looking and bold, breaking the eyeballs of everyone he looked to because of that hereditary _glare_ that ran across the siblings. Sure he was tall but nothing above average for a male, he were a little filled out around his middle, older looking than his true years and a receding hairline.

There was something terribly charming about his regular appearance yet totally un-modest place of the food chain.

But he spoke clearly, capturing every face in the room with his voice loud and proud. His hands were large and weathered, well-worked and what there was of his hair was neatly kept. His suit clearly cost more than his entire Family’s lives worth but together, dressed impeccably. Everyone watched him as he stood at the top table, even Anne peered up with a warmth that was contagious, Louis finding his lips pulling into a grin just watching her.

“… bit of a sloppy exit due to complications with the head mentor. But, he will be joining us very, _very_ shortly.”

Louis’ smile dropped along with his heart at what he sort of just missed but zoned back in at the right part thanks to his Father pinching his arm. He felt his warm breath at his ear as he spoke, void of kindness.

“Turns out we may get a live version after all.”

Louis shuddered, suddenly unable to raise his glass with the rest of the room as they all came to their feet and there was an up roar, of “To Harry.”

After that, the following minutes - hours - he didn’t know, they were just awfully shaky. The appetisers came out fast and were littered on the bone china plates around their table, Louis reaching for his water glass that was a little too far away only for it to be nudged gently by the waiter who was designated to them only.

“Thanks.” Louis nodded, feeling annoyed for no reason.

He thanked him every time he did anything. Pretty much every move he made he thanked him for, was the only one thanking anybody as the rest of the table ignored the staff as they tucked in and laughed obnoxiously over their plates to one another.

He felt sick.

Harry was going to be there soon. How soon? What was _soon_ to Des?

The third - and Louis had to check politely with his Mother who dismissed him, agitated - and final appetiser came out which was basically a prawn on a bed of leaves and his question was answered blistering fast.

“Ladies and Gentlemen sorry to interrupt your keen desires to tuck into this wonderful third course, but my Son has decided to show up at the eleventh hour,” Des was stood, a laugh in his voice as he held out a hand to what looked like the far corner of the long, curved room, “Please welcome him as he’s running on two hours sleep over the last two days and is very, very hungry.”

The room erupted in laughter and applause as every head turned, people were on their feet and cheers rattled the interior to welcome the boy Louis probably knew better than all of them put together.

Steadily, after a glare from his Dad, Louis rose to his feet too, hands clapping unenthusiastically. He wasn’t being rude, just far too preoccupied with trying to lean over to get a look at him through the crowds. Their table was situated right near the front as per request by Des himself, so there were a lot of bodies to peer through to see one figure moving.

But then he saw him. A glimpse of black through the array of sparkling gowns and tuxedos.

And oh there he was.

Three months later looking like he’d aged an entire year in his absence that it quite literally knocked the wind from Louis’ weak lungs.

He was coming down the side, not through the tables, saluting a two fingered wave to certain individuals as he passed. When he got to where the staff were gathered at large he stopped to shake their hands and Louis felt a pool of warmth in his stomach, the ball forgotten about momentarily.

Physically, he was a God, not an Alpha. This man was more than that Louis was convinced and it was becoming more assured every time they met.

He turned around once he got to the front and nodded, waved once and stepped up to the head table. His body was long, strong and smothered in the darkest black. Showing his age he didn’t wear a tie, of course he didn’t wear a tie to a black tie event, Louis would’ve been disappointed otherwise. He wore a tunic neck top, a fedora with what Louis hoped was a feather attached at the side, a blazer with a drummer boy trim to the grandfather collar that fit him like it was meant for no other and jeans that may as well be spray painted on.

Louis was mesmerised as he stepped a dark boot onto the first step, tracing the line of those endless legs as they heaved him up to his family’s level and greeted them warmly.

Something changed once he got up there though, the smile was smaller, his back angled away from the crowd, his gestures more contained. He kissed Gemma and spoke to her at length, her hand squeezing tightly on his bicep as she looked at him wearily.

Louis tried to be subtle about watching him so intrinsically over the rim of his champagne flute but when Gemma peered _right at him_ and smiled while she said something, nodding at her taller sibling, he definitely opted for spitting over swallowing.

“Oh my God.” Louis pushed out under his breath, surprised he was still breathing in the first place.

She must’ve told him he was here. But wouldn’t he have known already? Did he come back especially for this? Because he hates it so much, if there were complications wouldn’t he have just milked it and made out he couldn’t come?

Oh no. Louis pulled at his shirt, running a flat palm down his front, clearing his throat. It can’t be that. If he came here especially because he knew Louis would be attending that would make that ball inside of him explode and he’d have have to admit to himself that he may just be a little bit in love with someone he most definitely should not be.

There was a small mumble of people as they all turned to their dishes, then a communal rumble as everyone did. Louis pushed his prawn with his silver fork, poked at it a little, heart hammering, every cell in his body willing him to look back. Just one quick look, he didn’t even have to attract much attention, just look up and slightly to the side. One quick catch is all he-

Louis didn’t know how it made him feel when he did and Harry was looking right back at him.

The first time in months they’d seen the other. Physically. Their eyes catching on each other as if they were wired together and it was getting reeled in and in until heir heads turned and now they were caught, trapped, can’t look away even if they wanted.

The smile Louis’d missed, _mourned_ even, stretched lazily onto his face. It was so slow, so distracted as he finished up taking his first sip of bubbling champagne, setting down the glass that looks so flimsy in such large hands.

Louis dabbed his mouth with a napkin, dipping his vision to try and simmer his own happiness before it was detected by the surrounding guests. The heat in Harry’s gaze, even from that far away was undeniable. How one could convey so many things in one look was beyond Louis but he was definitely feeling them. All sitting densely in his chest, fluttering in his tummy and spreading around his groin.

“Louis, I hear you and the young Alpha have formed an excellent bond since his return across seas?”

The woman, late twenties at most, who had addressed him for the first time all evening, had shovelled down seven gallons of the champagne so far and yet seemed to be perfectly poised which unnerved him greatly. She was smiling falsely and batting her eyelashes waiting for his response.

He was polite and nodded.

“Yes, we met through his sister.”

“Ah yes she was a student at your school, continued onto college there too I understand. Bright young lady. Both perform outstandingly academically speaking of course.” Her eyes were half closed as she took a hearty swig of water, hissing through her teeth as she all but slammed it back down and her husband rolled his eyes. “Personally speaking though, I prefer Gemma. But you didn’t hear that from me.”

“ _Anema_.” Her husband warned, angling a look at her with wide eyes.

“What? What we’re in good company I can speak my mind,” She shrugged lazily, shoving her plate forward and readjusting the delicate necklace that held a sizeable emerald around her neck. “Boy’s got an ugly temper. And it’s not hard to see, you know? S’just one of those things.”

Of course Louis’ Father was overjoyed and leant forward, “What do you mean?”

Her husband went to interrupt but she was already there, “Well I have a theory - about his Brother?”

Louis was just about to sink back and let the conversation wash over him as his Father basked in the monstrous side he liked to play up, but the word Brother got him staying firmly put, if not sitting up further.

“Edward, you mean?”

He knew? Louis looked at his Father so quick with such vigor he had to compensate, scratching the back of his neck and looking away immediately.

“Yeah,” She leant in closer, the entire table hushing to hear her now, “the story of his death being a tragic accident? How he broke his spine from that _terrible_ fall and there was nothing they could do to save him? Bullshit.”

That earned a few gasps, but surprisingly, one other person was nodding. Louis leant forward just like everyone else, mouth agape.

“Bets on, Harry did it.”

“You mean…?”

“Yep.” She sat back, proud of herself. “He killed him.”

“No,” Anne gasped, mocked shock that made Louis cringe, “No why would he do such an awfu-,”

“No, no see, I don’t think he meant to. I think it was this fit of rage, this anger we all know he suffers with,” The woman tapped her temple, “that’s what did it, right there. Can see it in his eyes.”

He had a brother.

Louis’ brain chose the most random sequence to flash back to, but now he supposed it makes sense that it’s stayed in there, in the back of his memory. That photograph he picked up on the mantelpiece and Harry wouldn’t answer who it was when Louis’d asked, how he just turned quiet and dismissive. He’d not thought on it too much until- oh God and that’s another reason why he doesn’t want to get intimate. He can’t deal with strong emotions, doesn’t want to hurt him, that’s why he’s so obsessed with abstaining and not getting too close incase his mind malfunctions and he can’t handle it and-

Louis was going to die from a panic attack.

If he didn’t get up and excuse himself he was going to lose his life to his own heart puncturing his chest.

“Excuse me.”

His chair legs scraped, turning too quickly for the waitress to aid him in. He dropped his napkin and left the hall so fast he vaguely remembered asking where the restrooms were that it took him a moment of clarity - staring at himself dead in the mirror - to realise he was in them.

“Harry had a Brother.”

First sign of madness - speaking to yourself.

“But he didn’t kill him, he _can’t-_ ,”

Second sign of madness - answering yourself.

Louis opened up the tap, only just registering the tender that was in there with him and jumping back a little.

“Good evening sir, may I?” He adjusted the water so it was a comfortable temperature and offered him to place his hands under the soap dispenser - even that was gold plated. Louis shook his head stepping back, feeling claustrophobic and overwhelmed and all the feelings he didn’t bank on feeling tonight. His eighteenth sodding birthday.

“Can you, uhh,” Louis started, pulling at his ear then readjusting his footing to look around himself, “do you have to be here?”

“I’m sorry sir?” The man responded, pulling a linen towel from the neat pile. “You’d like a warm towel?”

“ _No_ ,” Louis snapped, feeling instantly bad, “no, sorry. I just- I need to be alone?”

“You can leave.”

_That voice._

Louis closed his eyes, didn’t need to turn around.

He didn’t need to open them again to know that the stuttered response from the attender was a shocked one and when there was shuffling to his side he stayed so, so still, letting the light breeze of a body moving swiftly past him wash over him as he clambered for his thoughts - and his heart - to calm, the fuck, down.

The door opened and closed way behind him and he heard the soft click of boots take a step.

“Happy Birthday baby.”

The warmth of a palm pressed against his back and despite the past five minutes of his life that has never made less sense he leant back into it, the tension that had his spine locked just melting away with that presence. He opened his eyes when there was a cloud of cologne, that heady stuff that got Louis wanting to permanently pin open his thighs diffused before him and there were cold lips pressed lightly against his cheekbone.

“Hi.” Louis’ voice never got this wispy around anyone else.

“Thanks." He gushed, turning to gage the fuller picture in the flesh.

The smile was still there.

But God he looked different. Not catastrophically, nothing wild. But Louis knew. He knew the rate of development was far more fluid in wolves, especially Alphas. He knew that when they went away for training in these four years they came back more matured, physically, emotionally. Yet seeing and knowing one the way he does Harry, and getting to witness it all first hand was breathtaking.

And very fucking weird.

“You look hot.” Louis sighed, nodding as he cascaded over Harry’s lengthy appearance that looked like he’d dipped himself in money and came back out with the richest outfit. “Could’ve made an effort though.”

Barking a laugh Harry’s smile grew impossibly wider, his eyes crinkling as Louis’ did the same.

His hair was longer, curls fully formed now as they hung just past his ears and brushed the sharp corner of his jaw. He were broader too. His shoulders looked like they were ready to burst the seams of that jacket, even if it did fit him exceptionally well. Louis didn’t remember looking up so much either before.

“I’ve fucking missed you.” Harry bit his lip, shaking his head. Was his voice deeper? “I’ve really, really missed you.”

“See I wouldn’t have known that,” Louis’ smart tongue was on a roll, “from the mounds of texts you bombarded me with.”

Only then did the smile falter, Harry taking a step closer. He brought his other hand to rest at Louis’ slim hips, thumbs rubbing lightly on the bone he could feel through the material of his suit trousers. The effort it took to divert his mind from the image of having those trousers on the floor and his naked thighs slung over his shoulders was difficult.

“I’m so, very sorry about that. I told you there might be difficulties with communication before I left, I didn’t realise it would be so,” Harry paused, looking away, “extensive?”

“Extensive?” Louis mirrored, still not touching Harry but not pulling away either, “No, _extensive_ is a couple of texts a week at most. Extensive, is a Skype call once a month and nothing else. You sir,” He prodded his chest, ignoring that voice in the back of his head, “you went MIA.”

There was no way on this very earth Louis stood a chance at maintaining his anguish coated speech, not when Harry was clamping down on his smile like that, looking at him through those hooded eyes, glittering green and focused with a haze that meant one thing.

“I couldn’t speak to anyone,” Harry had backed them up into the sinks and had done it so well it’d gone completely over Louis’ head, a gasp sounding when his tailbone hit the cold marble, “they’re very strict… what are these?”

Harry was running two fingers underneath the elastic of one of Louis’ suspenders. He wore them for the fashion, regardless of how his jacket hid them, but the snug feel they gave his pants was quite nice, plus, the looks on people’s faces like now were alright too.

He blushed furiously, watching two incredibly long fingers - one which donned a ring he hadn’t seen before, run up and down teasingly before letting it snap back and he bit down a sharp sound, “-ah.”

“Never, take those off.”

Louis was almost too pretty like this, gushing at his attention, putty in his strong hands, a little distracted with the thoughts littering along his otherwise pure mind. All because of him. His Alpha gloated.

His lips were bright pink and puffy, shining a little under white light when he licked them and leant into the the junction of Louis’ neck that was offered to him so readily. The contrast of a warm tongue lapping at his pulse point then cold, full lips sucking with blunt teeth was maddening, it made Louis want to push him away or sink to his knees.

“It broke me,” And that guttural tone vibrating along his skin, bringing the hairs to a stand, “not speaking to you,” Really didn’t help, “killed me, not hearing your voice,” Louis’ efforts to resist Harry for at least a minute, “not kissing you,” Louis was proud that he kept that next sound at bay when Harry graced a soft kiss to his jaw, the side of his mouth, "not touching…”

A flick of Harry’s tongue over his bottom lip and it was game over.

Harry kneaded his behind and hiked him to his most favoured position, Louis watching as his thighs were hitched expertly around the top of his hips, the material of his trousers pulling in all the right places and Harry got lost in how they felt so soft over his most delicate curve, a soft growl resonating from his throat as he nuzzled into Louis neck and let him _keen._

“You missed me baby?” Harry came back up and murmured into his mouth between hot, wet kisses. “Missed me a little too much?”

Louis tried to answer, he really did. But his hands were too full of Harry’s soft hair now he’d removed the hat, the thick curls he could grab and trail through and _pull-_

Harry’s throat made a strangled noise as small fingers tugged at his roots, pulling him back off his lips with a sloppy sound.

“That a yes?”

He’d got him pinned to the spot with his solid body and staunch attention, those eyes unwavering and binding as he demanded an answer, panting lightly with obscenely wet lips. The silver cross that glinted between his pectorals that was only just visible through the slit of his shirt was slightly ironic, Louis thought.

Slowly, Louis nodded, biting down on his swollen lip, “Yes sir.”

Warm hands were under the back of Louis’ shirt, having untucked it without the owners knowledge so he could feel more skin, more heat, the softness; all the things he craves. The scent of him, sweet but modestly rich, was loud and torturous at his neck which was where Harry would happily spend most of his time, but it was laced through every cell on his body and his wolf wanted more. He wanted every bit of it and every bit he could not yet breach.

He pushed his hips forward and Louis’ hands fell from his hair to his shoulders, down the front of his shirt and to Harry’s stocky waist where he pulled him closer, “We can’t,” He whimpered, contradicting everything, “-here.”

“Wouldn’t,” Harry responded after a few beats, scratched and breathless from his hands nearly over lapping where they gripped Louis’ waist, “not yet.”

It was stupid, laughable at how in the first twenty seconds of being within ten feet of each other they’d slotted into each other. Forgetting and apparently forgiving the issue of zero communication - regardless of how much intelligence Louis had on where he actually was, he could’ve squeezed in a text. Also completely hurdling over the most pressing, obvious enlightenment that has happened this evening.

“You’re coming home with me tonight.”

Louis being in a hall, at an establishment that is hosted by a high powered family of non humans. Surrounded by mostly, you know, non humans. And therefore being fully exposed to the fact that Harry is definitely a non human.

“I- really?”

Yet he’d said nothing. Neither of them had addressed anything and it was just so odd, how their bodies were drawn like magnets, their lips scorned if spent seconds apart like it was absurd for them to not be connected at least twenty seconds at a time. Yet their brains? Logic? Nothing. Forgotten. Temporarily and quite conveniently cast aside.

By now Louis would have red raw hand marks atop his hips no doubt, the pressure having been applied there by rough hands far from cordial.

He couldn’t stop staring at Harry’s lips. It was becoming a problem.

“Yes really,” Harry rushed out, slapping a wet kiss onto Louis’ abused mouth before running his hands slowly up to his knees joints and allowing them to stretch back down so he could stand. “If I don’t stop now Juan will walk back into something I’d have to give a big tip to compensate for.”

“Juan?”

“The toilet attendant.”

“Oh.”

Louis let go of the sink as he realised what a grip he had on it, “Okay, what about, um…” His mind had gone runaway with all the possible things Juan could’ve walked in on, proving difficult to remember what Harry had literally just said to him five seconds ago, “Right.”

But now the heat had passed - simmered, more like - the reality was there and it was tugging at his insides like a small child trying to get it’s parents attention, a soft reminder that they’re still there and need your awareness. Harry’s eyes raking up him that one time made Louis flustered, more so than he was already because every time he looks at him like that he ends up in situations like they’d just broke from.

“Your parents won’t mind I assume?”

It was the first time Louis’d allowed the thought, no, the fact, worm it’s way into his already cluttered mind and now he’s done that, now as he looks at him and realises who he is, for the first real time he feels truly vulnerable.

Harry is dangerous.

“Um…” Louis rolled his lips, maybe feeling awkward now and he’s doing it to himself, “I don’t think so.”

Which was ridiculous because all this time he’d known but no Harry knows that he knows… and it shouldn’t make a blind bit of difference under the laws of logic, but under the laws of psychology and forbidden love and denial and after six hundred therapy lessons, it would make perfect sense.

Harry retrieved his hat from the sink. Putting it back on really completed that stupid outfit that made him look so stupidly handsome and stylish but gorgeous and just, stupid. “You don’t think so?” He cocked his head, an odd smile playing on his lips as he took Louis’ hand and guided him towards the door. “I’m gunna need something a little more than _think_ , my prince. Besides, I have a present for you.”

They filed out together into the expanse of the hallway, a few members of staff milling around and Juan, who averted his eyes quickly, accepting another 50 that was slapped into his palm and said nothing before going back to his position with his head down.

God Louis felt small next to him.

Maybe it was the hat.

Maybe it was because Harry was meant to be big, born to excel in most things physically and mentally and he was meant to feel like this. Not because Harry was actively wanting him to feel tiny or vulnerable, because, not once has he ever intentionally wanted to show him who’s boss or had an ego that he’s been taught about all this time, and there was something about that that was truly beautiful. Such gentle finesse in something with the capability to be so reckless.

“Actually, I don’t care.”

Harry wiggled his fingers through Louis’ further, looking down at him, amused and surprised, “About the present?”

“No," Louis snorted a quiet laugh, shaking his head, "no, I don't care about my parents".

“Really?” Harry couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away, a soppy smirk sticking around a little longer than he’d like it to when Louis shook his head again. “Right that’s that then. I’ll pick you up at 9.”

“You’ll what?”

They wove around the corner and through the side entrance so they could slip back less detected than the one that they left through which would leave them bare in front of the higher tables and Harry and Louis’ combined.

“I’m not sticking this out until the end, no way. I’ll be making excuses and you’ll be coming with me. My car’s in the valet.”

“But won’t that be a little obvious?” Louis quirked an eyebrow, making a weird high pitched noise when he was stopped abruptly before a fire exit door and spun to face the taller boy. “And wait, aren’t you drinking?”

Harry stared at him for a good few seconds, hoping that if he stared hard enough and maybe long enough, he didn’t have to answer that last part for him. But Louis’ eyebrow remained risen and the look on his face clearly indicated otherwise so he sighed lightly through his noise, peered at his feet and stepped forward, taking both Louis’ hands in his and raising them to his mouth.

“I don’t care about making anything obvious in front of my family, can’t speak for yours.” Harry spoke against his skin, his warm breath making the hairs of his neck rise from the memory of moments ago when it were there, “And my tolerance for alcohol is six times that of yours.”

Realisation dawned and Harry frowned a little, didn’t like to see that face on his boy. Only light should be coming from those eyes, nothing that deems him unsure or taut.

“Say what you must, do what you will, but you shall meet me in the foyer at nine sharp.”

Louis couldn’t meet his eye, “I will.”

The backs of his hands were christened with two kisses again, any excuse for Harry to keep him within his grasp a little longer and then they were carefully dropped and the air they were replaced with felt harsh.

 

*

 

“So…”

Harry flung the keys into the dish with a loud clang in the eerily empty lobby and turned around with a hand through his hair, his hat in the other. He frowned, watching Louis toe off his shoes as there was no reason or him to, he’s never been asked before to do so, so it were odd he were doing it now.

“Uh,” He started, grimacing at the chewing gum he’d been gnawing for the past two hours, “what are you doing?”

Louis popped his head up with his fringe a little mussed to look at Harry surveying him with his hands on his hips, stance wide and a little comical with that frown. He retrieved his shoes and stood up, a few meters away from each other and waggled them at him, “What do you think?”

The way Harry’s blazer pulled at his shoulders even more when he stood like that _did_ things to Louis and he had to swallow.

“You’ve- actually never mind,” He waved his hand, closing the gap between them before hiking Louis up bridal style and carrying him through the first leg of stairs.

Giggling - it’d fast become Harry’s all time favourite sound - Louis tried to quickly adjust his fringe whilst maintaining a good hook round Harry’s neck and peered back down the hall he was being chauffeured along.

“You know, when I’m with you I spend more time in your arms than on the ground.”

“Would you like me to change that?” Harry spoke around that gum, jaw tense as he gently pushed his large bedroom door ajar.

Louis took that moment to observe his profile, feeling Harry’s biceps shift against him as he manoeuvred him through his bedroom and up the two steps towards his bed.

“Nope, no thank you.”

Harry smirked, laying him down, “Alright.”

Finally, Harry’s stomach flipped in glee when he quickly made his way into the bathroom to discard that God awful gum and left Louis to settle into the sheets as he waited for a minute.

Having a couple of minutes alone, Harry flicked on the bright light and clicked his shoes over the cool floor tiles to the mirror on the far wall where he couldn’t help but stare at himself. He stood and he stared and he tried to let his mind catch up with his physical. The weight of this evening was huge. Not only was it Louis’ birthday, not only is it the first time they’ve seen each other in three months, not only had Louis and his family attended their exclusive annual party but now, now he knows what he is and vice versa.

The fact neither of them had said anything probably spoke bounds already, Harry thought, bending down to unbuckle his boots at last. They were too caught up in the heat of the moment when they saw each other, too wrapped up in their emotions to allow room for any other non-condensed, sober thoughts. But it was there when they pulled away, when they were walking back down to the Hall it was quiet and when Harry squeezed his hand Louis didn’t squeeze back.

He didn’t know how long ago Louis’d learnt about his identity. Can’t have been more than a week, because Des had told him that Louis’ parents were keeping the party a surprise for his Birthday. So they would’ve told him then, about who exactly Harry and his family were.

But Louis seemed okay with it all so he had no reason to worry.

“Harry?”

He nearly dropped his boots, hands gripping them a little tighter as he peered down at them.

“Yes Louis?”

He had no reason to doubt Louis was actually okay with any of it because he was outside right now, on his bed, calling for him in that angelic little voice that sent his insides simultaneously mushy and tight.

“You gonna be in there forever or?” When he heard a little chuckle, Harry started about going back into the bedroom, “I love you the way you are you know you don’t have to reapply your make- oh, _hi._ ”

Harry stopped dead in the doorway, still gripping his boots.

Louis’d decided to remove his entire outfit, the _entirety_ of his shirt, jacket, suspenders, tie and trousers and replace them all with nothing but one of Harry’s shirts. It was black with a white emblem sewn into the top left pocket that read ‘ _Styles_ ’.

Boy was quick when he wanted to be.

“I like this.”

Louis twirled around in the full length mirror just inside the closet, barefoot and beautiful in the low light of the room. He must’ve turned it down to this setting because he’s romantic and wants to give Harry a heart attack. Harry was sure of it anyway, walking past Louis to place his shoes neatly in the closet with the rest, utilising every effort to not touch the boy as he turned back around.

His eyes didn’t have such will power however, shamelessly dropping to those fucking legs.

“I see that.”

He knew what he was doing.

He knew exactly what he was doing and it only made Harry’s appetite grow. “Your clothes not comfortable enough pumpkin?”

Louis said nothing, just turned around and bent over to pick up his suspenders knowing Harry would be seconds away from going nuclear at the view it granted him with and ran his fingers along the elastic as he folded them slowly.

Harry was primed from training. Freshly baked out the oven. He could deal with this.

His renewed sense of discipline meant he were equipped for situations like these when temptation was raw and all he wanted to do was flip him over and fuck his back end off. He just has to take a back seat and a few deep breaths later he was fine. Really, really fine.

“Well these were getting a little tight.” He pouted looking down at them, then looked over his shoulder at the simmering Alpha who was still stood gripping the closet door, “I don’t like it when things get too tight.”

Or maybe he skipped the part where they were taught how to deal with little human enticements that knew what buttons to press and when.

He stalked over to his position, peeling off his jacket and throwing it wherever the fuck it went and hoisted Louis up and over to his bed again, dropping him onto it and wasted no time crawling on top, quite aware Louis was still holding those damn suspenders.

They inhaled each other, lips moving perfectly against the other in a messy brawl of lips and limbs, teeth crashing and lips catching but neither cared, nothing but a mound of heat and suppressed noises as their bodies rolled until Harry was on the bottom. He brought Louis’ legs up again, so he was bent over his groin and pushed himself up so he could cradle Louis and ran his hands down his back, just touching the dip in his lower back before running them all the way back up again, feeling it contract as he went.

His palms covered the entirety of it’s width, so lithe and small.

“Shit.”

Harry crashed his lips into Louis' and they started kissing hard and fast. He let himself be controlled completely by the Alpha, he loved it, being held so tightly with such big, strong hands while surrendering to his carnal dominance.

“You like me in your lap huh?”

Secretly, they wished for something to stop them - some glimmer of hope in aid of finding some sort of fault, but as time pushed they were simply fitting perfectly to one another; tongues in perfect sync, lips smacking, teeth biting, dragging, hips grinding, hands greedily groping and grabbing. Everything was an erotic blur unable to get enough of each other, both searching for more skin to touch, to kiss, to bite.

Harry drew back from his lips, enjoying their swollen state, “Can you blame me?” His voice was destroyed, his pupils blown, “You’re a fucking sin.”

And God Louis’ skin was a blessing. Soft, the only coarseness laid upon it were the goosebumps brought on by Harry’s touch. His scent laid the thickest at his pulse points, but it never faded wherever Harry found his nose, bumping it on the underside of his jaw he allowed himself to immerse himself in it’s hold.

It felt as if the chains that had been holding him down, keeping him in line were slowly unhinging. As his hands wandered up and down Louis' little body he quickly decided this wasn’t good enough. Hooking two capable hands under his thighs, his palms spread wide and lifted him up, legs coming around his hips and flipped their positions, pushed him backwards on the bed.

Louis’ moan was food to the fire. And Harry chased it, learning fast. If Harry kissed his neck just right he'd arch into him, slightly grinding his hips up and he'd get that moan, that sweet sound that made his dick throb. So he tore himself away from those sinful lips again and started on his neck, leaving a trail of marks on his way down.

“God you’re so,” Louis ran his hands down Harry's broad back, feeling the curve of every solid muscle move underneath, “how do you- oh my-,”

Harry peeled off his top with the help of smaller, eager hands, flinging it to the ground.

There were small parts of him that kept reminding him to stay cautious, keep it under wraps. Louis may now know, but it didn’t mean he could let go. Those feeling were still there, that urge to take what his wolf desired was stronger than ever but his will to not hurt him was stronger. Though that stretch of ground may shrink quick under the distraction that came with the boy beneath him and his chest gave off nosies he couldn’t control. His throat constricting at the task it took to form words to compensate as fast as he could.

“So perfect,” His words imprinted onto his skin, in-between kisses, his voice vibrating against his throat, “so, so perfect my little…”

Louis stretched out delightfully eyes slipping close on a silent moan, pulling Harry’s face into his neck even further which the Alpha purred around, “Yours, Harry…”

Even as he turned Louis over, he did it a little too forcefully but he was aware of it and that was a good sign. He was aware that he was holding him a little too tight at times, kissing him a bit forcefully and manhandling him without a second thought so he was still in control, still aware of his own coercion. But the worse thing about it all was that instead of pulling away from his hardened grips, instead of hissing at the mild discomfort it most likely brought him, Louis leaned into it. He liked it.

Harry admired Louis from this position, “Shit,” Running his hands down his back slowly, “Holy shit.”

_Pin him down, you have the power now so use it._

Harry squeezed his eyes shut.

He needed to busy himself with something, something that satisfies Louis. He knew that if he focused on bringing Louis pleasure the voice that was telling him to take Louis would be hushed for that long at least.

_Look at him, look how easy it would be._

The low moan was a frightening sound, as he allowed his hands to travel to the base of Louis' spine and onto his ass without the aid of his eyesight. He’d waited a long time to allow himself this pleasure and it was exactly - if not better - how he'd imagined. He were reaping his rewards for his patience and discipline immensely, taking a moment to simmer over the firmness of it, tight and thick. Just enough to squeeze for a satisfying handful.

“This _fucking_ -,” He back handed a cheek, causing Louis to squeak, his body going stiff then melting even more into his touch, “Good boy.”

A flash of green and red caught his eye and he spotted the discarded suspenders lying within arms length. Bending forward, Harry whipped them up and in a smooth swipe had Louis’ wrists encased too, lining them up above his head towards the headboard and hinging them into the plush pillow as he leant down so his lips were brushing his ear to say, “Do you trust me, Louis?”

Edward's name was a distant memory until just then.

_Don’t think too much, don’t think too much._

He couldn’t deceive him anymore than what he already had, not entirely sure the answer was a full lie anyway but Louis still nodded, nearly puncturing his lower lip as he did, cheeks flushed and hair splayed as he turned to try and look up at the brooding alpha above him.

Harry sort of grunted in response, nearing the point of losing verbal communication himself. He angled Louis’ body with his thighs so he were facing one of the four posters of his bed and wrapped his hands and wrists up so tight the material burned.

It was too late to protest when Louis actually realised what was happening.

“Harry?”

He heard a sound, a muffled groan of acknowledgement between his shoulders blades amidst the softest of affections being laid there.

But he said no more, caught up in the feeling of feeling. He couldn’t see him, could turn his head at a harsh angle and swizzle his body to try but it would soon begin to hurt so he kept forward, head hung between his shoulders on the pillows Harry’s arranged for him to be comfortable.

He couldn’t turn if he wanted anyway, Harry’s hands would ensure he’d be whipped back into place if he even tried.

The lips on his back varied between teasing and soft pecks, to sloppy or hard bites as they worked southwards, down between his shoulder blades and along his spine, hands holding the material of his own shirt bunched atop his shoulders.

Then those same hands mimicked the trail left behind by his mouth, blazing a trail along his inner thighs.

The further inwards it got the more sensitive he became, his skin reacting more fiercely to the blind touch.

When Harry’s fingertips trailed light and fast over the skin of his behind, revealing each satisfying goosebumps as they pulled his grey underwear down, Louis keened into the cotton. When his fingertips stopped, gripped the flesh around his plump cheeks and the tip of a tongue flicked his hole, he nearly jumped off the bed.

“ _Easy…_ ," It’d reached a point were Harry’s baritone voice didn’t sound like his own anymore. “Keep still baby.”

Another lick, heavier this time, tongue flat and wide against his spasming entrance and Louis’ thighs snapped shut beneath Harry’s torso, his hips bucking forward.

“Open your legs.”

A muffled something came from up ahead but Harry was having none of it, pulling up on strong arms and snaking a hand around the nape of his neck, “I don’t think you want me to ask twice.”

Sitting back, Harry’s feral gaze returned to those toned thighs separating, little moans fluctuating in anticipation from the boy as he repositioned and gripped his behind much harder than before.

Louis tasted like summer. He was coconut and salt water; he was hot sun and bare skin. Harry’s tongue was lapping up as much of that skin as he could, keeping his cheeks parted and his tongue flat until he grew impatient and pulled back, letting him wait, stir before him with aroused apprehension and enveloped his pink hole with his lips, sucking and twirling his tongue until it was so wet and so puffy he could slip inside.

His grip was extraordinarily tight and his mouth salaciously expert.

And Louis was having trouble keeping up. He knew it would be an effort in the bedroom with the Alpha, managing to take him between his thighs was the first thing he thought of but he never imagined he’d be so good at this too. Never dreamt he’d be left caught for breath, writhing in ecstasy trying to clamp down on all these silly noises at the mercy of a singular tongue. He wished he could grab something other than the oak of the headboard, becoming slippery with his sweat. There was only so much of Harry’s abuse he was going to take.

But then he was being lifted, his back end rising up as Harry hoisted him at the hips so he could devour him for a sitting angle - an angle Louis’d never thought would feel so fucking good.

“Holy fuck, holy fuck, ho- _oly_ ,”

The wet intrusion was joined by something thicker; Harry holding one of Louis’ thighs over his broad shoulders so he could use those long fingers Louis had thus far only fantasised about filling him up.

And they did just that.

His moan pierced the air; it was so high, so breathless, hiccuping with every pulse of that finger that it could be mistaken for pain. But it wasn’t. Nor did Harry seem to care even if it was, he’d nurse him through it, pain and pleasure coming inconceivably hand in hand within the tenacious grasp of a beast. There was absolutely no fighting him off as he lubricated his fingers with something cool that Louis couldn’t identify and pushed _two_ back in.

He was relentless, pushing and pulling, pulsing around the bundle of nerves that made Louis’ thighs shake and his eyes roll back. When Louis felt the metal of a ring it felt dirty, something reminding him about how forbidden this was.

A tie had been released in him, a starvation finally being fed, even a little bit. A man possessed. Over and over Harry stretched his hole, wet and sticky and _red_ now, his tongue lapping against his taint until he could feel Louis drawing tight, so close.

Louis cried out. Actual tears, real tears escaping and trailing over his cheek. No pain, not because he was upset but because he was overwhelmed. Completely and utterly overthrown by this man behind him, the boy he should hate more than all others, yet the person he probably felt most safe with above all.

Louis twisted his ahead against the pillow, cheeks blotched and prettily painted a similar shade to his rear. He choked out Harry’s name, chanting, pleading, begging for something he knew Harry was going to give him either way.

“ _Please_ ,” His hair was sticky and slick against his forehead, eyes screwed shut on a soft frown, “ _please, please, oh my god please-_ ,”

Hysterically he tried rearing back into Harry’s assault, fingers curling and moving so deep inside.

“Please Harry, holy shit, Harry-,”

Harry couldn’t speak. His mind was beyond comprehension, it had the understanding but at present lacked the capability, afraid of what would come out if he exercised that power. So instead he growled, kept even that to a minimum, grunted as he tickled Louis’ swollen balls with his tongue and licked one fat line up to where his fingers disappeared and sucked at his rim, tongue rubbing along the underside of his taint over and over and _over-_

Feeling the trembling in his thighs halt Harry knew. He drummed this fingers on his thigh, rearranged his grip and curled his fingers right into that spot and drew back as he angled them so firmly inside he rose up on his knees, taking Louis with him as he came apart below.

Harry knocked his head back, licking his lips, tasting Louis’ sex fresh and sweet as he wallowed in the contraction around his fingers, the muffled sound of Louis’ desperate cry into the pillow he was biting, the scent that was so rich and so full if he opened his eyes now he would replace his fingers with something far more intrusive.

He kept his eyes screwed shut, mouth hung to catch his breath, a few strands of dark hair strewn across his face, damp.

Louis’ orgasm was explosive and had soddened his sheets, but Harry wasn’t complaining. He would later, when the smell would be too much and he’d have to go into the bathroom, lock it and release himself furiously from the ache that was already heavy between his thighs.

Slowly, he pulled his fingers out, the contractions coming less often, and let go of his vice like grip to Louis’ limp, sweat-slick thigh with a small kiss. His eyes remained closed as he lowered Louis’ lifeless body down, no weight to it as he sat back and took a few breaths, listening to their combined heartbeats hammering in his ears.

Untying Louis' wrists was the hardest part. Devouring his most sacred part, tasting him where he’d wanted to for so long - no that part was easy. But letting him go was a sign of release, that it was over. Telling himself and Louis that it’s done, while they both knew Harry’s arousal was still mounted and his hunger still painfully famished.

Louis' voice tore through his dangerous haze, “God you’re amazing.”

He swallowed around the thickness in his throat, discarding the suspenders to lay next to his little human, blissful and content. The weight of him made the bed dip and Louis’ eyes fluttered open. Blinking a couple of times he tried readjusting to the amber lighting of the bedroom, working the blurriness form his eyes lazily he focused on the long torso next to him, thick abdominal muscle, a dark nipple a little higher, shadowed curves where his pectorals rounded. Up again, the silver cross, hanging haphazardly to the side and glinting as the Alpha’s breath evened, sweat drying on his pale skin.

“Ha… Harry?” Louis tried, exhausted, still laid unmoving from where Harry’d left him.

But when he looked up all the way and saw the state of Harry’s eyes staring back down at him, more black than green, his query as to whether he was okay was well and truly answered. He stared at him, lips popping open as the heart rate that had steadily been subsiding, drummed back up.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is so very long. And maybe a bit slow? But there's plenty of shit to come so half of me apologises and the other half insists you enjoy this mediocre pain while you can. Thanks to everyone for the continuous feedback throughout.
> 
> Also Roman is the actual [Roman Kemp](http://www3.pictures.zimbio.com/gi/Roman+Kemp+Guests+Arrive+DISARONNO+Terrace+eWRoo4CuwA1l.jpg). In their interviews they've always bounced really well off each other and I've always thought he could be Harry's younger sibling. Also, my middle name is Roman.

Louis trails through the house, looking unapologetically adorable in Harry’s chunky knit, oatmeal sweater with nothing else but a blush upon his cheeks that only came with the presence of the six foot wonder that is rummaging around in the kitchen cabinet before him.

His shoulders were haunched, back broad and hadn’t noticed Louis come in, his scent having not drifted that far just yet into his distracted mind so he continued to mumble like a disgruntled old man when he couldn’t find the pot he were looking for.

The tiny scratch of a cleared throat got him near enough somersaulting.

“L- _shit_ ,” Rubbing his head from the little bump, Harry stood up and tuned to his little treat, “ah, you’re awake.”

Louis’ blush scorched when he saw Harry’s line of vision drop. He felt compelled to snap his legs shut and cower away but he didn’t, instead he bathed in the glow of being wanted, the knowledge that he were able to bring this man to his knees with little to no words made him giddy. He hopped up on the bar stool and didn’t adjust himself when the sweater pulled up his thigh a little more.

“Food,” Harry was a caveman. “You, um…,”

“I could eat.”

Harry nodded slowly, eyes burning with images he couldn’t afford right now. He nodded slowly, “I could too.”

Repeating himself, he turned and grabbed the pot he’d been looking for so strenuously - right in front of him - and fired up the stove. His shoulders were haunched again, head bowed as he busied himself with various items, dipping and gliding to grab things from different cupboards, a steady frown set onto his features throughout.

Behind him, Louis was content on watching, picking at the ripe green grapes that hung excessively over the lip of the fruit bowl, popping them into his mouth lazily as his feet swung.

“So this whole thing with your Family not doing Christmas until the evening, isn’t that annoying?”

Harry shrugged, “I’m used to it. They have responsibilities so we don’t get our own time until later.”

“And that’s just, the way it is.”

Harry agreed, “Yes.”

“What festive treat are you cooking for our lunch then?”

Harry hummed, “You shall have to wait and see.”

Harry wasn’t wearing anything from the waist up and it was delectable for Louis to witness. Just like Harry seemed to turn into mush when he’s donning his clothes that were practically xxl on him, the sight of rippling muscle rolling over the next, offered to him so clearly in this flattering light of day was making him squirm.

His back was bare, long and tight as he flipped something in the frying pan, the fire from the stove blazing for a few moments until he placed it back down. Muttering something about missing an ingredient he froze when reaching for the spice as two small hands wound slowly around his waist from behind, his bare back now having a layer of human.

“Can you not spare my undivided attention for a few more minutes, little one?”

Harry gathered the unimpressed sound and the soft ruffle of hair against his head was a firm no and he smiled, dashing the spice into the pan, swirling it once and turning down the heat so he could obey his little Prince. He swivelled around in his loose hold so he were now looking at Louis nuzzle himself into his collar bone, humming into the warmth there that was comforting to him.

Harry waddled them back over to the chairs and seated himself before lifting his featherweight companion onto his lap, being rewarded with a flash of his bared body beneath that sweater, feeling Louis’ warmth through the cotton of his sweatpants as he arranged him on his lap with the sweater hitched just so.

“Fuck, you’re going to kill me.”

Louis hummed, eyes slowly closing, apparently ready to welcome sleep now in the comfort of his boyfriend’s arms, “I’m not going to kill you.”

Harry enjoyed the smile he could feel on his jaw when he planted kisses on Louis’, trailing them lightly across the underside and down his neck. He felt the goosebumps raise on his bare thighs that hung loosely over the side of the stool, Harry’s hands taking up their fondest of habits of scoping out the softest skin that lay on the underneath.

“You are, baby.”

Louis nuzzled into Harry’s strong neck, inhaling his musk, hearing his breaths grow more calloused than the last.

“How can you have so much stamina?”

There was nothing more Harry wanted to do than show this little handful exactly how much stamina he had. But doing so would definitely rust his efforts in keeping his wolf at bay, especially the knot that would form with it and keep him planted firmly on his arousal for as long as he wished so he could just roll his hips over and over, lulling Louis into a soft orgasm while he waited for the bond to seal.

“Oh…” Louis’ breath hitched, pulling back from his neck to peer down between his thighs.

Harry hadn’t kept a cap on his thoughts and so it showed in his groin.

“I have an appetite.” Harry cleared his throat, pecking Louis’ lips once.

Louis kept staring, looking back up to Harry every so often, “No kidding.”

Bright blue eyes were trying to get a grip of the situation between his legs. He was exhausted, sexually, physically, Harry made sure of that. But feeling him so hard, seeing the tent in his pants had his pallet salivating, the memory of feeling it so many times before but ever being allowed to touch, the thought of it laying thick on his tongue made his hole clench around nothing.

He mumbled something, wriggling his hips a little. The corners of Harry’s jaw tensed as he snaked his hands underneath the part of his hips the sweater covered, planting his fingers in the crease of skin that he could knead for hours.

He gave him a questioning look, but it was soon answered when Louis palmed his arousal and he had to dig his fingers into that sacred flesh making Louis squeak.

“Louis…”

Louis was first and foremost a brat, whining at the tone his name was delivered. He rubbed Harry’s engorged length through the material, happy when he saw the beginning of a wet patch at the tip, getting lost in the thought of how much of a stretch it would be for him to take him right now, how his hole is still probably wet and looser than usual from Harry’s earlier abuse.

His mouth popped open on a gasp when Harry tapped his ass with a cautioning slap, “Easy boy.”

Louis challenged Harry, looking at him through wide eyes not breaking contact as he pulled back the band of his joggers.

“Yes Daddy?”

“Oh my f-,” Harry had no control over the rumble in his chest, his Alpha well and truly rattling that cage. He watched his cock bounce out, the weight of it _visible_. He watched as Louis did his best to not mewl against those heavy hands, kneading his backside, fingers teasing, pulling his cheeks apart so his hole was bare to the cool air.

When Louis thumbed the sticky trail off of his tip and popped it in his mouth, making obscene eye contact as he did it, Harry just about felt his last thread snap.

Without having to move from his groundings he lifted Louis up and by instinct Louis ground his hips so Harry’s cock was pressed hard and firm along his crack when he was seated back down. The boy anchored one arm around Harry’s neck while he weaved the other to his back so he could run a hand along the intimidating length of Harry lined up behind him. Never had it felt so real, so testing now it was laid up hard against his behind, the idea of it so far had been an exciting one but now it was daunting.

“You’re going to get me in trouble Louis.”

Louis’ eyes fluttered close, the sensation of Harry’s shaft rubbing along his aching hole proving to be a little too much for him. Harry watched his pretty mouth drop, his eyes close, that pink tinge that never really left his cheeks, the soft sounds that came intermittently as he rolled his and Louis’ hips in unison.

He didn’t have to look, he could feel Louis’ arousal, dripping steadily down his inner thigh.

There was a brief thought about how different this is with an omega, how wet Louis would be right now if he were one. Yet the thought of Louis keening for his cock even as a human, the desperation to be filled without the innate push was fervent and much more a victory than a horny omega that was genetically inclined that way.

“Want you,” Louis mumbled, Harry’s hands trailed from his bottom and up his curved spine, fingertips trailing underneath his sweater, touching upon the dampness on his coccyx from sweat and up to his shoulder blades, _pulling_ him down towards him, “please…”

“What do you want?”

Harry’s voice was Louis’ weakness. It was slow, liquid smooth but crackled, catching in all the right places.

Louis ground his hips back, pressing on Harry’s length that got a clamped sound from the Alpha.

“Not good enough baby,” Harry cooed in his ear, nipping it before shooting a flat tongue out to sooth, “you know that’s not good enough.”

“Please, please,” His whines were desperate before, they were salacious now, “Harry _please_ …”

He turned his face into the crook of Harry’s neck, his cheeks heated and his fringe sticking a little to his forehead. Hands snaked up over his shoulders, hooked from behind and pulled him up to force him to look at him.

“You want me to fill you up?”

Louis made a sweet sound when Harry shoved his hips up once, Louis hands falling to grip his biceps, fingernails digging into the bare muscle, hands laying practically flat over the width. He always felt so tiny next to him, only three or so inches between them in height but in size, their contrast was far too distinct. Harry was thick set and broad, Louis lithe and slender. The most slender part on the elder were his wrists, yet they still yielded more power than was necessary, even now as he snatched up Louis’ hands and pinned them to his sides, holding him there with little effort.

“Harr _yyyy_ ,” It was so sulky that Harry wanted to sink into him right there with no prep for punishment, “M’so horny,”

Harry smirked, eyes raking over the tight thighs spread over him, the bare sight of Louis’ now exposed erection and his mussed hair, his writhing hips. He bit down on his lip before nodding and replied, “I know baby.”

It was there, if he wanted it.

“Why can’t I touch you?” Harry nipped the bottom lip of his childish pout, Louis blushing and looking between them, saying in the smallest of voices, “Know you won’t hurt me.”

Scratch that, he definitely wanted it - it was there if he was going to take it. But he knew he wasn’t. Not yet. Definitely not until they’ve had a conversation about the massive elephant in the room and addressed everything, but that kind of thought wasn’t reserved for moments like these so he killed it, lifting Louis up again and stood up, his cock bobbing as he turned around and seated Louis back down.

Louis made a grabbing motion towards his length, a long, sticky drop of pre cum dripping from the tip as Harry gripped Louis’ eager hand and shoved himself - begrudgingly - back into his pants. Horny, frustrated and pissed off. Times like these he wished he were an asshole. An Alpha that took what he wanted, when he wanted, fuck the consequences.

“You know we need to talk about it,” Harry looked up at him, lifting his soft hand to his mouth to kiss the back of it, “Nothing’s happening until.”

Louis was about to protest, eyebrows already pulling into a frown but Harry shut him down with the _look._

“I’m free for a quick chat right now if you are?”

Harry laughed, watching Louis curl up into the stool, not letting go of Harry’s long fingers until he absolutely had to or he’d fall off it, “Over lunch perhaps, yes.” Harry lifted the spoon from the pan to his nose, inhaling the spicy aroma, thankful he stopped when he did or else it would’ve been charcoal. “Smells delicious.”

Then again. It’d probably been worth it.

“It really does.”

Harry dropped the spoon, didn’t even notice the small but searing hot splash on his bare stomach. Louis’ head snapped to the side, instantly dropping his legs to a normal sitting position, the thick sweater dropping with him when he saw who was stood in the door way.

“Ansel.”

Louis couldn’t move.

“Harry.” Ansel nodded in acknowledgment, pushing into the room, further towards Louis’ positioning.

Harry had forgotten bout his near burnt creation and focused entirely on the other Alpha currently snaking his way around the centre station where his little human was seated, freshly aroused and _reeking_ of Harry.

“So it’s true.” Ansel concluded, arrogant and blunt already as he spoke to Harry but looked at Louis, “You’re fucking a human.”

“ _I beg your-_ ,”

“Oh Alpha please, calm down.” Ansel held up his hand, looking to him then, taking his time to lean on the countertop and snatch an apple. “Everybody already guessed it. All it took was evidence, it was pretty obvious why you were keeping him around so much.”

It were either a treat or dangerously uncomfortable to see two alphas in the same room. Depending on their relation to the other. The power, the rich individual scents and testosterone, it was potent. And well, Louis couldn't want the ground to open more.

Harry would forgive him for this behaviour now, but away from Louis’ innocence he better have hot feet the next time Harry sees him because he’s going to be on his tail like a fever. He closed his eyes, pressing his fingers into them to wallow in the mild pain before squeezing the bridge of his nose, letting it all solemnly sink in.

“Fuck.”

“Yes, _fuck_. Your Mother is looking radiant by the way,” Harry’s eyes pinged back open, “Haven’t seen her in a while.”

“My M-,”

Barbarously on cue, she appeared through the doorway then with a look that spoke bounds smacked across her face. The accusation in her eyes was too much. From anybody else Harry was ready and waiting to fight, but her, he was weak.

“Hi Sweetie, I know we’re home a little early but- Louis,” She was smiling wide until she saw him. Her smile didn’t drop, just simmered. “Merry Christmas darling, are you spending the day with us?”

_Fucking brilliant._

“Merry Christmas Mrs Styles, um,” He replied, his voice raspy and too false. He shook his head too eagerly too, clearing his throat with a glance at Ansel. “I don’t think so, I think I’ll be heading back home later, just wanted to, um…”

“Mother did you invite-,” Harry stepped forward but he was cut off with a hand.

“I know why you’re here darling, I’m old not ancient.” Anne answered Louis, before turning to her Son, “And yes, why? You know everyone is round in the evening.” Harry’s stomach dropped, his heart shattering. Her green eyes tore away from him only for a beat to beckon towards the other Alpha in the room, “Ansel insisted he came around to see you. I knew you were planning to be at home all day so, I didn’t see a problem in him coming over.”

Ever since he had the talk with his Parents about Louis, who he was and how he felt, there was unresolvable tension. Not because they disapproved of Louis, because they’d grown quite fond of him afterwards and agreed to keep things within the family. But _because_ they chose to keep their Son’s love secret, the pressure of keeping such things from their packs was tremendous and quite detrimental. It was common knowledge a wolf cannot feign such love; the sense of wanting to protect an individual at all costs and devote their every living breath to ensuring their safety was something hardwired into an alpha so they knew trying to pry the two apart would only cause war. Plus, deep down, they’d always questioned the rights of interspecies relationships - romantically. Why it’s forbidden. Never were quite in agreeance with the whole thing.

Amidst feeling like his chest was collapsing in on itself, all it took was a swift glance across the room to see Ansel lingering far too close to Louis, eyes burning into his heated skin like he wished to destroy it. He really wished Louis weren’t positioned where he were, so he could easily lunge and take the bastard down. Beat him until his face was unrecognisable, until he needed a machine to breath, until he would practically beg for Harry to grace him with death.

Forgetting the fact he was on side with Dylan and wanting to expose him and Louis to the world, Ansel had a sickening thing for humans. The first reason he wanted to keep him away from him in the first place. He regularly disgraced Harry’s name by going out and using them for sex, just because he could, because he enjoyed the idea of hurting them a little, a sinister trait that Harry deemed vile.

What’s worse it was quiet, too quiet. His Mother looking beyond his shoulder with a small smile towards him before letting him know his Father will be home in twenty minutes, taking the plastic containers she came in for and left. He took a breath.

“Louis I -,” But when he turned, Louis was lifting himself down from the stool, pulling at the bottom of his sweater and without a word went to scuttle from the kitchen. “What’s wrong?”

“That’s right, run my man,” Ansel tossed the apple in the air, took a bite and chewed arrogantly, smacking his lips around it with a smug smile that Harry wanted to rip from either side, “run along to Mommy and Daddy and tell them that you have got the Alpha _wrapped_  right around your little finger.”

Harry wasn’t going to stop Louis from leaving, thinking it best to let him gain as much distance between Ansel and himself.

But that was flipped on it’s back quickly.

Harry’s arm was easy to duck under but Louis stared at it, stuck not an inch away from him in under a sickening second. His knuckles turned white on the corner of the counter, the beds of his fingernails too as he strived to grip something that wasn’t Louis’ neck.

“Harry…”

Words weren’t required just yet. Not yet. Not wanting to speak too soon before something else was said, words that so needed to be elaborated on before anything slipped past his lips that he would regret forever. Harry stared at Ansel whilst keeping Louis pinned.

The shift in power during the last ten minutes was dizzying; going from having the the sweetest type of control you can have with Louis, to feeling completely out of the loop with the other Alpha’s arrival and now - now this unpalatable anger. This burning he fought to contain to that hand gripping the counter until he got any sort of confirmation.

“Yeah.” Ansel nodded, tearing the last chunk of the apple before chucking it in the trash. “Looks like Dylan’s suspicion was right all along.”

The fact Louis hadn’t even moved, hadn’t even tried to defend himself got Harry’s resolve splintering.

Ansel continued, closing in around the centre counter, “You cast him out,” He pointed at Harry, a rude action he’d dare not do otherwise, “you exiled your own beta for _him_.”

Ansel’s words tortured him, progressing onto the details of Louis’ betrayal, including what his Father’s plan was and how Harry had been playing into his hands just perfectly all along, thinking that Louis were the poor innocent victim when in fact, it’d always been very much the opposite.

“You're such a dick- Harry it was nothing like that I swear.”

“Oh it wasn’t?” Ansel got a little too close, despite it all and Harry stood tall, a warning present that he knew better than to ignore, “You’re calling me a liar?”

“You’re painting it on far too thick-,”

“No _you_ painted a fucking visor,” He pointed around his Alpha, teeth bared in anger, “you painted an innocence that didn’t exist, playing up to his soft heart. You deserve everything bad things that’s going to happen to you.”

A growl erupted from the Alpha in the middle, head hung with closed eyes. He’d only let someone insult him so far.

Ansel side eyed him, licking his lips that were dry from the pure rage beating his body’s defence. He lowered his voice, took a step back and pointed at the quaking boy, almost hissing when he spoke, “…and trust me Louis, you have _plenty_ of bad things coming-.”

“Enough.”

Harry’s voice was a force to be reckoned with. Ansel didn’t fancy his chances, stepping back one more time and sealing his mouth as Harry’s eyes pried open at the sound of the third, tiny, voice. “H-Harry…”

“Leave us.” Harry uttered, raising his head.

Ansel was stood tall before Harry, eyes burning into the human with a united bind, but when Louis tried to duck underneath his arm Harry seized his bicep in a crucifying hold which had him crying out from the pain, “ _Not you_.”

Blue eyes struck him with the tears already surfacing, his hand full circle around his arm, fingers pinching the skin.

“What?” Ansel intruded, looking at Harry like he were an idiot. Which, he may just be. “How can you-,”

“Give us privacy.” It was abhorrently obvious Harry was doing his best to keep his anger retained to that one hand, unfortunately now on Louis, eyes trained on Ansel with a desperate but limited plea in them. “Gemma will be home with the rest in a couple of hours, wait for them.”

Ansel understood, he didn’t need anymore instruction or reasoning from the elder to get to leaving right away. He weaved around him, a hand on his shoulder blade for whatever reason before leaving immediately for the back of the manor, leaving a crippled Louis with no words and Harry, with no patience.

His eyes were rimmed a violent red as if he’d been crying, Louis could see, but no tears were present. The physical effort it took to keep it inside was stressing blood vessels, the pressure in them a little terrifying, especially teamed with the force Harry executed in dragging him through the door then, down the corridors and up the stairs wordlessly and so rapidly his feet could barely compensate enough steps.

“You have to let me explain - ah, Harry- ow, ow, _ow_ \- you _have_ to-,” Louis was launched onto the bed and stripped of Harry’s sweater instantly.

“Get dressed.” Harry ordered, calmly, all things considered.

Louis didn’t need to ask as his clothes that he wore last night were thrown onto him. He assembled himself quickly, pulling up his underwear and pants, fingers trembling around the button. He was all too aware how silent it was in the room.

Bouncing into his pants he quickly fastened them and wriggled into his shirt quick time, fastening up his buttons as efficiently as he could with shaky fingers.

Harry had already left, broad shoulders tense as he bolstered down the stairs leaving Louis to hop into each shoe after half successfully putting on his socks. 

"Harry! Harr- oh my god," Louis forget the rest of his clothing, rushing out to follow him, " _wait!_ "

Harry's hand was still holding onto the foot of the bansiter as he turned, knuckles white, voice deep and thundered, “You kept it from me all this fucking time!”

“ _You_ \- oh man that’s rich,” Louis shook his head, huffing, “that’s fucking rich.”

“Don’t get clever.” There was a warning there and if Louis were wiser, he’d have abided by it.

“You don’t get to call me out for hiding my intentions all the while you were doing the same thing with your fucking _identity._ ”

"I'd think it obvious, why I did that." 

"What if I had a fear or something? Of wolves," Louis was a little out of breath, "Then I find out? Huh? What if it was like that?"

He thought he was making a good point. 

Harry balled one of his fists, flexing it a few times. “It’s not something you mention on a first date, Louis.”

Louis blinked, slowly, then cocked his head, “No actually, I think it is, _Harry_.”

Harry groaned, throwing his hands up as Louis steamrolled, “It’s definitely something you tend to warn a person about before attempting to get into a serious relationship with them, the little fact about you not being totally human and that you can, you know, transform by will into a four legged beast that _kills_.”

Louis pulled back when he saw Harry rear around on him then, a finger pointing with eyes more emerald than before.

“The only killer in here is you,” Harry’s voice was formidable, Louis still stepping back with every one Harry took forth, “the only _warning_ anyone should heed is you. You and your family and their disgraceful choice of sport.”

“ _Sport_? You think my parents hunt wolves for - for _fun_?”

Harry peeled off his check shirt, throwing it to the sofa. His skin was on fire, his blood felt like it were clotting in his veins, his vision blackening at the sides so he closed them. Standing with his hands on his hips, angled away from Louis. His next words were slow and calm. “Is there a reason behind every kill?”

“The reason lies in your DNA-,”

“ _A justified reason_!”

His roar was heard throughout the house and Lord knew he was past caring. Harry’s eyes were bright, his pupils dilated but the thin ring of emerald that was still visible was beyond electric. Louis could only stay stock still and hope his stubborn will was going to be enough to get him through this alive. Deep down, there was a quiet reassurance that Harry wouldn’t hurt him. Not really. Even after this, no matter what he said to him he wouldn’t cross that line. But his inner voice and the scene before him were furious contenders as he stared into the eyes of a rabid animal he’d not met before. He knew Harry would already be counting the beats of his exhausted heart, chasing his shallow breaths. He didn’t want to think about the cloud of anxiety and panic that rest around him and what it did for the Alpha.

“I-,”

“A reason that you can justify on a human level, for taking another’s life,” He waved his hand, “Regardless on _personal_ opinions.”

“Harry,” He gulped, shaking his head but he didn’t know what he were refusing, “y-you kill people, it’s a fact tha-,”

“Me?” His eyebrows shot up, prodding a harsh finger into his own chest, “I have killed?”

“Your race have Harry, you’re born killers, it’s proven!”

Harry manoeuvred from seven feet away to less than two so fast Louis stumbled back without looking and fell into a small side table, his hands scrambling for a grip on anything to stay upright. He bore down on Louis with those eyes, nostrils flaring and his voice dripping with a danger he was hoping to avoid, “I ask you again, Louis. The wolves, the humans, the _lives_ you have taken. Do you have proof of any of their catastrophic wrong doings that can even begin to justify you ending their existence?”

Harry had grown a lot more than he’d thought, Louis was certain of it. An alpha’s out-rivalled rate of growth was apparent now more than ever and had never felt threatening on him up until this moment where all he could see was Harry, the rounded shoulders and the clenched fists, the hardened eyes with all the too sharp edges and the long, long legs that were much thicker now, sporting more muscle in those thighs than Louis had in his entire body.

He almost lost his voice along with his will.

“No.”

“ _Speak up_!”

Louis flinched, trying to stand up straight, keeping an eye on an unmoving Harry, “I- I don’t know.”

Harry had fast hands too. Slow and leisured movements majority of the time but snappy when he wanted to be. More over when Louis _didn’t_ want him to be. The lamp behind Louis on the table was ripped from the wall, its cables sparking as it was launched across the room with one hand.

“ _Bullshit_.”

The echo from the shattered glass rang like white noise through the small boy’s ears.

“Bullshit you stand for nothing.” Harry’s actions were so abrupt, yet his voice steady and Louis’d never been so petrified in his life.

There was a grumble resonating from his sternum, something that had been easy to ignore at first but now Louis had noticed it properly it was apparent it’d been there from the start and had only been getting steadily louder.

Harry stepped back, his bare chest rising and falling, hands pushing through his hair. Louis’d never wanted to know what’s going on inside that mind so desperately before now.

“You have to understand why I did it.”

He wasn’t facing him, Louis thought it a good job as he may not be able to look into that wrath much longer.

Louis didn’t realise he were holding his breath until there was a sharp flash of pain in his chest, and Harry replied with a low mumble, “You manipulated me.”

“Only- no, no listen only at the _start_ ,” The only hope he had was the desperation in his voice, hoping it were enough to convince Harry to at least listen, “I didn’t know you at the start, I didn’t know I was going to end up falling for you.”

Louis thought he barked, but it was a laugh. It was treacherous and throaty and he didn’t like the sound of it at all, swallowing again to try and moisten his sore throat. “Harry…”

He didn’t speak, just stood, head bowing with his hands hung at his sides, fingers fiddling with the rings on each. He was almost in a trance, still able to hear and reply to Louis but lost to his own thoughts, perhaps caught in a battle of what’s right and what he knows he shouldn’t do but so badly wants to.

“Harry none of this changes how I feel about you.”

“Oh!” He raised his hands making Louis jump, leaving his hair a mess of chocolate curls around his sharp features that weren’t so easy to soften at present, “Right well then, brilliant. Shall we?”

“Wh- Harry…” His caution was well deemed, holding out two hands airborne to brace whatever impact was imminent as Harry charged towards him. Although he wasn’t expecting what happened next. Harry dipped to seize Louis around his hips and threw him over his shoulder so quickly it knocked the wind out of him.

He tried to level out the bouncing on that prominent shoulder muscle, every time it landed to his gut with such force as the Alpha wasn’t trying to be careful about any of it. They both knew Anne and Ansel would be able to hear everything that was going on. If Gemma were there she'd be by Harry's side clawing, begging him to stop and calm dow. Gemma knew Harry’s temper better than most, had been at the receiving end of it far too many times in every way but violent. She’d witnessed it on others though and Louis really didn’t stand a chance. Give him a couple of years and Harry is going to be able to crumble any Alpha that dare cross his path, it’s what has always been destined.

By the time Anne would get to them Louis would be long gone.

“Harry please - _ah,_ Ha-arry,” He chugged on air, gripping and pulling at the thin cotton covering the vast muscle in his back, the heat was radiating through and Louis wriggled desperately, trying to kick his feet out when he felt Harry ease up a little around his thighs, “ _Put me down_!”

He hissed through clenched teeth when Harry swung him up and over, and slammed him into the wall.

His face was right before him, hot breath and muscle a frightening wall he couldn’t escape, “If you’re still hot for me then we’ll just forget the whole thing yeah?”

“Sto- _ow_ ,” Louis’ arms charred at the effort of pushing against those formidable shoulders, “Don’t be-,”

“Thought you wanted to be manhandled, huh?” Harry’s eyes were not friendly. Nothing about him was.

“Y-you’re hurting-,”

“But where’s all this talk about wanting me to get a little rough? I thought that’s what you liked about me?” He had him pinned by his thighs, near enough bent in half so Louis’ spine pressed painfully where it jutted out against the wall, “Hm?”

With both legs hooked over his arms, he hitched him a little higher, pulling his legs in a touch so his ankles rest atop his shoulders. Normally Harry would be driven wild at his flexibility. He landed an awful blow to his arse, palm connecting with a harsh snap of his wrist that was unexpected and Louis yelped.

“It’s my wolf, Louis. My wolf is rough. Always been him who wants to squeeze, wants to tear you apart, push your limits and _control_.” Harry’s lips were almost drawn back into a snarl, leaning in to make sure Louis were watching, “Didn’t hear you complaining when I was knuckle deep.”

Another crack to his cheek got the tears burning in the corners of his eyes, teeth clamping down on his bottom lip in a pitiful attempt to suppress a sound.

“What’s the matter?” Harry pouted momentarily, only for his jaw to tighten once more as he bent Louis even further, hands coming to hold the backs of his knees as he pushed forward, “What’s wrong baby?”

The sounds that came from him were incoherent. He wanted to scream, but the tears that streamed from the corners of his eyes as he saw just who black those eyes were, how his pupils eclipsed the searing emerald, his body went into a state of shock and sort of shut down, fingers trembling on the heated muscle they clutched at his forearms helplessly.

“Don’t tell me you’re scared.” The growl got a whimper that only made him want to chasten more. “Where’s that clever tongue now?”

That sound that was emitting deep from inside this sternum was getting louder. Every breath was ragged with it, a snarl that was too close to his ears as Harry leant in and squeezed his fingertips into his skin, even they were laced with it’s menace. He was in the clutch of paramount danger and Louis hoped he’d black out from the shock before it got to the next level.

“Fucking killer,” Harry spat, dropping Louis suddenly to floor with an unkind thud, a collection of slender limbs with fresh marks imprinted around his joints. “Fucking _murderer_.”

His eyes popped open to see Harry stepping back onto the landing, still saying something, talking to himself with gritted teeth only to argue back in the next breath.

Louis clambered upright, pressing himself against the wall, tucking his knees into him, fingers shaking on unsteady wrists.

Whatever that was it was said at him, definitely, but the blood racing in his ears was making it difficult to focus, the tears were making everything blurry even Harry was just a tall smudge above him. The sound of boots thundered across the hall when he closed in on Louis then and crouched next to him. Frightened beyond repair Louis tightened every muscle he had, squeezed his eyes shut and braced.

“Go.”

The little puff of hot air on his face made his skin crawl. That wasn’t even Harry’s voice.

As if Harry could sense his question, his trepidation of whether he meant it or not, there was a deep crackle in his voice and a louder shout, “ _Leave_!”

He didn’t need to be told thrice, up on his feet and nearly falling over his own ankles a few times before he tumbled down the stairs as fast as his body would allow. He doesn’t remember getting to the bottom of the stairs, barely recalls his name being called in a light voice from just behind as he crossed the lobby and tore open the goliath door and ran as fast as he could from the house.

 

*

 

It was six days later that Louis heard any noise from the Styles.

Six days of little to no sleep, relentless phone calls that ended in the answering machine’s monotonous drawl and that ball unravelling in his stomach until there was nothing but white noise in his ears and an emptiness in his heart.

Louis’ parents scolded him for not returning on Christmas Day morning and had been giving him the cold shoulder ever since. They thought his loyalties lay elsewhere and that he was becoming too accustomed to their way of life so they placed a two week ban on all things Harry. Little did they know their discipline was wasted, Harry had done that all by himself.

He knew how it looked.

But the thing was it _wasn’t_ like that. Not even a little bit.

At the beginning okay - okay maybe at the beginning it was and Louis was more than happy to fulfil his parent’s conquest by helping them in any which why he could. The things he’s been taught about wolves, especially about Alphas like Harry, the horror he’d learned about their lives - he’d known nothing else until he knew better.

Harry changed all of that. The day his Father came home from work and announced begrudgingly how he had the Style’s siblings on his ward, how they’ve been waiting for the day they’d come out of hiding, Louis felt almost excited. He’d never gotten too involved with the hunting business but he knew everything there was to know about it. His parents had encouraged him to pursue his own path but it’d always been there, always been staring him the face and beckoning him to take it up, even as a side interest at first. He felt like he maybe should’ve, to follow in his folk’s footsteps or something sentimental like that but the thought of actually hunting down and _taking_ somebody’s life was too gut heavy and he never did find the gall to lift his hand.

But then, then when he went round to see Harry after the accident and he was showing him around his home, something so domestic and warm - like he’d had a life too, that’s when it changed. An actual _human_ life that was no different to his own, his upbringing, his family, it was all there in the photographs and the memoirs around his house. Louis felt his stomach turn even then, knowing he was there only because of his Father’s will, and here was Harry, oblivious and so willing to share that side of him.

Then they were fooling around on the bed and Louis knew he had to push his buttons, he knew he had to do as he’d been instructed and try and wrangle a reaction from the boy, get his Alpha so wound up and tested in the hope he’d snap.

It’d never occurred to him what he’d _actually_ do if Harry ever did. His Parent’s liked to side step that thought on the regular too. Like okay, so what if I carry this out so well and get the reaction you wanted so easily that Harry actually does try to pin me down and-

It’s only occurring to Louis now that they’d never spoken about that. After all he was the bait and bait is there to be taken.

So six days after the reveal and Louis was curled up on his bed, his final year of high school picking up again tomorrow. He’d given up staring at his phone, hoping for the next time it lights up to see the letter H and not Zayn. Or Liam. Or anyone else that wasn’t entirely connected to a Styles member.

His stomach grumbled, probably telling him to get up and get some damn food but he couldn’t. He didn’t know what this feeling was. It’d surpassed guilt by now, he’d progressed onto something so much more painful, something that meant his heart felt like it’d been ripped from his chest and laid out in the arrangements of tiny pieces for him to look at and try to figure out where to even begin.

Heartbreak.

That’s what people rattle about all the fucking time and now Louis knows why.

It was Sunday and his parents were out, gone for dinner without him. His Mom made sure he’d have something to eat though, making a brief display of telling him there was some shepherd’s pie in the oven, vegetables in the dish.

That was an hour ago. Louis’d definitely lost a few pounds that he couldn’t afford. He was slender enough, his bone structure prominent so if he shed any weight it would show substantially.

Sighing, he swung his legs over the end of the bed and gripped the edge of the mattress as he let the rush of blood settle. When the dizziness passed he pulled on a black hoodie and padded downstairs in his dark grey pyjama pants, looking like he’d awoken from four days restless sleep.

Firing up the oven he winced as something in his back cracked, hissing as he rubbed it with a hand braced on the side.

The silence inside the house was rip-roared by the bell ringing and Louis managed to crack his back once more as he jumped, eyes pinned to the entrance to the kitchen, stilling through the riotous knocks which followed.

Tiptoeing to the edge of the kitchen he leant against the door handle, peering around until he could scope out the long length of the hallway right down to the front door. Leaning there his mind took him back to a place he’d much rather forget - something he’d kept to himself through the worry of his Parents acting too soon. His mind was ablaze with the clear memory of Harry’s hands wrapped around his throat, restraining him to the wall next to the cabinets behind him, eyes tearful and glowing dangerous.

Through the frosted glass, he could make out not one but two figures.

Louis’ hand slipped off the handle when they knocked again.

Muttering to himself he pulled his hoodie string forward, attempting to get some sort of grip on himself as he found his feet travelling forward before his mind gave them permission.

He had no idea who it was.

There was a thought stirring him crazy that it was something to do with Harry. Or someone. Maybe pack members from outside his native got wind of Louis’ betrayal and have come by order to kill him. Or worse, inflict unworldly pain.

Assessing his surroundings he coiled his fingers around the handle, the others tugging the chain lock and realising that nope, there were actually a grand total of zero sufficient weapons to defend himself with, he sucked in a breath and cracked the door open.

Peering out he frowned to the last face he thought he’d see.

“N- _niall_?”

Opening the door fully, he blinked, looking down at the small blonde in a navy puffer jacket and a beanie. His cheeks were rosy and eyes friendly as he waved, sort of jogging on the spot.

He leant to the side, brows forming a permanent crease as his jaw remained slack, “ _Roman_?”

"At your service." Roman nodded, clapped his hands on Niall’s shoulder and pushed him forward, “That’s a boy, just like we spoke about, one foot in front of the other…” He nodded, bright eyes not dissimilar to the Alpha’s glistening as the flustered blonde fell into his hallway, “brilliant. See? Warmth.”

Roman, a little taller than Niall and Louis, closed the door gently with a click and beamed a smile at them.

“Apologies, he gets a little stuck sometimes - physically and other,” Roman jested, rolling his eyes, “just needs a little push every so often. Try not to use any big words.”

Louis turned his head to Niall who was pulling a face, “You can fuckin’ talk mate,” He looked to Louis thumbing behind him, “this idiot used face mask for toothpaste this morning.”

“Excuse me,” Roman retorted, clearly triggered as he untied his tartan scarf, “ _A_ , the tube is pretty much the same size and colour and _B_ , it was five forty five AM. Only Harry can operate at such an ungodly hour I swear he’s not fucking-.”

“-and C, you use a face mask?” Louis offered, eyebrows raised.

Roman, impressed, slowly turned to Niall with a matching expression, crossing his arms as he came to stand next to Louis.

“Yeah Niall.”

Louis’d almost forgotten what it’d felt like for his cheeks to stretch that way - the way they do to smile. He felt his chest titter with something close to a feeling he’d nearly forgotten too, dipping his head as he came over bashful.

Niall was defensive but still smiling, “Why am I under attack?” He held his arms out wide after peeling off his beanie to reveal a furious head of blonde chaos, “So I like to take care of my skin so what? Winter weather is harsh.”

Roman raised his hands, “You brought it up.”

He turned to Louis, “Anyway,” Sucking in a sharp breath through his teeth Louis found himself bracing for it, the _thing_ , the reason they were here, “I believe we have some water that needs flushing under the bridge.”

And there it was. The very reason Louis’ entire body fell slack with so much relief for some reason his mouth salivated.

The last time he’d seen these was briefly when he’d gone over to the house with Zayn while Harry was away last month. He’d gone round a couple of times before, at the request of his Mother who wanted him to feel welcome under their roof without the presence of their Son, but he still felt like he wasn’t.

It was nothing they’d done, just his own insecurities. Probably the guilt.

Definitely nothing his pack had done either. In fact, in the couple of times he’s bumped into them in Harry’s absence they’d all taken a keen interest in him and - obviously acting as Gemma’s _baking class_ , had to steer away from using any language or information that would give Harry’ identity away - warmed to him terribly fast.

Which was funny now Louis thinks back to it, how well they did and how they all just sort of didn’t care about how weird it all seemed for them to be that close, to the _whole_ family, from a damn baking class. But they’d all been so welcoming to him, so attentive to him outside of their Alpha’s presence. Niall was his favourite. Roman was cheeky and something told him, from the way Harry’d spoken about him previously, that he were Harry’s.

_“You and Roman have a bond. S’cute.”_

_“Don’t say that.”_

_“What?”_

_“A bond,” Harry pulled a face, mouth twisting, “I- I wouldn’t say it’s a bond. But he’s good. He’s a really decent chap.”_

Later, Louis realised why he didn’t want to use the word bond. And he giggled about it, remembering the look of horror on his face when he’d said it, knowing how he’d have been trying to fight the images.

“Water flushing und- you got a way with words pal,” Niall sighed, laying his beanie and jacket over the banister and hooking his arm out for Louis to weave his through, “c’mon.”

The thing about Harry’s pack - minus a couple - was they made it so easy to like them. You can forget their genes and take them for just a really close group of friends that they consider family, hanging out with inside jokes and unbreakable _bonds_. But then you include their genes, their true identities and where he’s been taught there’s structure and rules about Omega’s, Betas and Alphas, there’s no such thing. Not half as severe as he’d been told anyway. No one is pushed out or overlooked and aside from Harry obviously holding precedence because of who he is, no one is more important that the other; it’s just one big family and you would struggle to find someone with half a heart who’d find it difficult not to fall in love with them.

Led through to his own kitchen, escorted by the both of them once Roman linked his other arm, although he felt more at ease now, he became nervous for other reasons.

“How is he?”

Niall sat him down, turning to Roman who did a poor job of quickly averting his eyes and sniffing the air towards the direction of the oven which had Louis’ shepherd’s pie sitting on top, waiting to be warmed through.

“He’s er, he’s,” Niall struggled, hovered over Louis a little too long trying to come off casual as he rolled his hand, “… you know.”

“He hates me.” Louis blurted out, staring up at the beta. “You can tell me it’s fine.”

Roman laughed from across the room, pulling on his shirt as he closed the oven door, “It would take a great deal for Harry to even come close.”

He plucked a leaflet about financing off the side, one of his Mother’s from her marketing team and flicked through it with a pout, coming up slowly to Louis’ position at the table, “A lot more that what you’ve done.”

There goes that dip in his stomach again. Louis found himself unable to meet any pairs of eyes, looking down to his fingers that picked at the leather of his seat.

“You see, Lou,” Niall sighed again. Louis thought this boy spent more time pushing air out of his lungs than breathing it in, always coming off a little out of breath or flustered. “Harry he’s - well he’s a softy.”

Roman snorted, head still down and browsing, “Big one.”

“And he lets people get away with a lot of things. Things he shouldn’t, given his title and that.” Niall continued, dragging the chair he sat on closer underneath the table, “But if there’s one thing besides that you should most definitely know about our Alpha it’s he’s a bit-,”

“He’s a ticking time bomb.” The leaflet was slapped on the side and Roman laced his fingers together atop the table, mouth settling into a straight line as he peered at Louis with focused gait. “He’s got a temper and you detonated it.”

“Alright mate ease-,”

“Niall I love you but you flirt around the issue, there’s no nice way of saying it.” He licked his lips, looking to Louis’ for a second, “Christmas Day he was ready to tear you limb from limb. We went round later and I nearly suffocated from the tension. For the next few days, it- I don’t know, got better? But he hadn’t spoken a word to anyone.”

Louis' heart hurt.

“He does that. He gets angry, he goes into hibernation and then comes out like nothing happened. But this is different.” He prodded the desk as he spoke, both Niall and Louis watching it. “We’ve never seen him this bad. He got so heated he self induced a rut.”

“What?”

Roman pulled back, “Please tell me you know what a rut is.”

Felling the ebb of a blush Louis quickly back tracked, “No no, yeah of course, I mean how is that even-,”

“Possible?” Niall interjected, Louis whipping his head to the side, nodding. “It’s rare, but it can happen. It’s more like a rage rut,” Niall huffed a laugh, coughing into his fist when he saw the unimpressed singular eyebrow raise on the other beta, “um, it’s just brought on by stress and makes his body want to tear everything up in sight.”

“Including arseholes.”

Niall exploded a short laugh, bringing his knees up to his chest making him look like a child and Louis turned around, gobsmacked, unsure whether he should allow the giggle in his own throat to surface.

Roman smirked. “So to answer your question, he’s been better.”

Niall’s laughter subsided and Louis nodded. He kept nodding, thinking about how angry Harry was that day, how he’d never seen anyone turn so fast, so viciously. Not that he didn’t have every damn right to want to hurt Louis, to feel so inexplicably enraged by him but the caliber of his temper was frightening.

“Alpha’s can’t feign love.”

Louis listened to Roman’s voice at his side.

“Not like that. It’s obvious when an Alpha has found his mate.”

Feeling like his skeleton had unzipped his skin, stepped out and ran for the hills Louis had to grip the table in fear of falling off the fucking chair.

“What did you just say?”

Niall swallowed around the plum he’d took from the fruit bowl without asking, speaking with his fingers in front of his lips, “He said it’s obviou-,”

“I can’t mate.” Louis stared at him, then back at Roman, “It's not- biologically- I mean how can-,”

“Well,” Roman started, but Louis was up then, a little shaky as he stepped back and away from the table with his hands out to steady him on absolutely nothing.

“How can he- he can’t, he’s only 19!” Louis’ voice was rising. The room was getting smaller too. He palmed his throat, the nape of his neck, “Nearly 20. He’s not even- how can he _know_?”

Niall was still slurping loudly around the fruit carelessly, “Can’t exactly explain it Lou, just sort of natural really. Can happen anytime.” He shrugged looking to Roman for support who swatted him round the head in passing, “- _what_?”

“Calm down. This is a conversation that should be reserved for you and Harry but don’t go fucking worrying about it.”

Louis pushed air out his mouth, huffing, laughing to the empty half of the kitchen then gawked back at Roman in disbelief. “I know what happens in mating Roman.”

He had to bite the inside of his cheeks to retain from laughing at him. He looked so innocent stood there with that matter of fact tone, felt like he were speaking to his baby Brother about the birds and the bees for the first time and he was getting embarrassed.

“Least you can’t get pregnant.”

“Oh!” Louis threw his hands up, “ _Oh_!”

Roman giggled and Louis did too, more from nerves than anything else, nothing about this funny whatsoever. He looked at the beta ducking his head and couldn’t help but chalk up all the similarities between him and Harry. They both had green eyes, both tall, both had cheeky, shocking smiles that blinded you if you were within ten feet of them and both carried themselves with a sense of pride. It was a quality about them Louis couldn’t place, but it was so easy to see why Harry and him got along so much - especially when they both had that dry, almost sinister sense of humour.

“Look,” Roman rolled his eyes, “forget the word _mate_. Forget it.” He waved his hands, looking to the egg timer that just rung loudly on the counter. “My point is, it’s not going to be easy but Harry will absolutely, without question, one hundred percent forgive you.”

Louis turned the timer, cupping it in the centre of his palm rolling it gently. He stood still, away from both betas for a moment, hoping to hear more of that sparking confidence that came with Roman’s last sentence.

“Just have to get round there Lou.” Niall added.

“Well, not unaccompanied, “Roman said, “That’s why we’re here.”

Louis switched off the oven, his fingers still attached to the nozzle when he peered over his shoulder, “Y-you wanna go today?”

“He finished his rut yesterday.” Roman informed him, like it was obvious and no big deal whatsoever. “The day or two after they’re always a little docile from the come down.”

“And you think he’ll be okay with that, he hasn’t even-,”

“Of course he hasn’t contacted you.” Roman was indignant, “He’s an Alpha for one - whatever stubbornness you have he can match it by twenty and he’s broody anyway so add a layer of testosterone infused wolf on there and you have yourself one grumbling ball of misery.”

Niall could sense his trepidation, coming besides Louis to help him take the heavy dish out of the oven, placing it on the cooling rack and squaring up to him with his hands on his bony shoulders at arms length, “He’s not going to hurt you, okay?”

“He wanted to.”

“That was then.”

Roman came up behind them, swiping some of the creamy mashed potato off of the top with his finger, pointing it at Louis, “As much as it looks like he’s going to, he’d rather break his own neck than yours.”

Comforting, Louis thought. Weirdly.

“It’s going to be fine.”

“Okay.” Louis nodded. Maybe they were right.

 

*

 

Recovering from being absolutely suffocated by Gemma the minute he stepped foot past the eight foot unnecessarily large oak doors, having been informed that she could smell him the second he stepped onto the gravel - which the whole scenting thing is something he may never get used to nor be totally at ease with - Louis’ nerves grew through his body like branches on a tree.

He was okay half way through the drive, Roman and Niall doing splendidly at calming what worries he had. Until they casually dropped off the atomic bomb of a comment:

_“Harry obviously isn’t expecting you so just be mindful he may be busy, I think he has a meeting with…”_

Great.

Louis were under the impression Harry was aware of two of his beta’s whereabouts and had therefore been aware that there would be a tiny possibility of escorting him back to his home. But no. Louis is about to roll up to an Alpha’s house, unannounced and most likely very, _very_ unwelcome. It didn’t bare thinking about the reception he’d get from Anne and Des.

Gemma was dressed in baggy clothing, a thin sweater that dropped off of her shoulder with a tank beneath and sweatpants. She still managed to look breath taking with her hair up in a careless bun, soft strands of white blonde hair falling down the nape of her neck and behind her ears, which she kept tucking back as she led them through the thick of the house.

“They didn’t scare you did they?” She ticked her head to the two betas who were _offended_. “Roman can be a little dramatic.”

“Why don’t you hate me?” He couldn’t help himself, feeling thoroughly out of place, being welcomed with such grace and warmth he felt unworthy. “Why doesn’t anyone hate me?”

“Because you were blinded, Louis.” She replied simply, smiling at him with tired eyes that Louis felt responsible for. “Your initial intent wasn’t kind, but your heart changed. And I believe you. I believe Zayn and I believe you. Harry does too he’s just tainted by anger as of-,”

Hold the fuck up.

“What’s Zayn got to… wait, did he know?”

She looked apologetic, almost as if she knew she fucked it by saying that. She cringed and stopped walking to turn on her heels. “Um, sort of.”

“ _What_?” Louis was aghast looking at her as she just shrugged, looking as helpless as she felt. He turned to Romana and Niall, who was actually now just Niall, Roman having trailed off somewhere along the way. “Did you know that?”

“I knew he knew what we were, but… um,”

“Oh I meant- _woah_ okay. I was talking about the fact I’d fallen out with Harry not that he- okay. Okay.” He said okay two more times, before Gemma placed a cold hand on his shoulder, asking him if actually were okay.

No.

Yes, because he was here and there was a chance of rectifying his wrongs. No, because he was here and that chance was a small window and Louis’d never had good aim and everything felt like a lie, like he were upon a stage and everyone else was the audience, pointing and laughing.

His head was a whirling mess.

He could feel his throat begin to constrict, his knees feel out of joint and his stomach gargling around that half eaten shepherd’s pie

“Okay, alright, let’s sit you…” Gemma trailed off as she went to grab him, more than likely to guide him to the nearest seat or just help him plop down right there on the floor but she froze with her eyes trained directly behind Louis.

“What the fuck is going on?”

Louis’ sense came pirouetting back into the room, swirling around again and again as his brain tried to catch up, clawing at his own voice for it to jump start, closing in on him steadily and eventually high kicked him in the face.

He stood still as the seconds he could hear on the grandfather clock round the corner tick by.

_Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-_

“I tried to run ahead and warn him.” Roman.

Gemma released her breath, “We didn’t want to tell you Brother because we thought you wouldn’t agree.”

The air was considerably thicker now.

He had to turn around or else he’d look ridiculous, stood cowering away from the boy he loves because he’s ashamed. He’s ashamed and he’s so full of remorse and love for him that he feels stupid enough already, abusing the trust he had from such a person. And yes, he may be a little be frightened too.

Turning around felt so slow, like he was greeting his doom.

Little did he know the truth in that statement, for he wasn’t the only one guilty of keeping a few details behind their backs.

He stood and waited for Louis to meet his eyes, his dark checked shirt hung open to reveal a black t-shirt underneath and that cross tucked beneath it; the material so thin it was nearly see through and he could see the outline of it laid below his clavicle. Louis were no wolf but he could swear his heart beat was visible too.

“You’re brave, Louis.”

Harry’s chest constricted seeing those wide eyes, eyes that were so afraid and watery he felt actual pain at the thought of someone bringing him down to such emotion. The only problem was it were him who had done so and he didn’t know how to cope with that.

Harry swallowed, eyes faltering in their attempt to be stern when Louis stuttered out, “Can we talk?”

He repositioned his footing, pausing for a second before looking at Roman. He tugged at his bandana that had curls overflowing around his face.

He wanted to say something, he wanted to be abrupt and offensive and tell Louis where to go for all selfish reasons that protected his heart, his family from any more disgrace. Maybe before he’d seen him just now, he would fantasise about the probability of him doing that being great, that he’d send him off with little to nothing. But seeing him now stood before him looking so fragile and as beautiful as he always has, his Alpha was going to let him do anything but.

The next word felt like a dagger to his chest. “Come.”

He spoke clearly and spoke directly, eyes hooking Louis’ as he walked towards him, seeing his fingers clutching together in a bid to stop the trembling. He could smell the fear lingering, the soft shape of his pink lips parting as he peered up at him, unsure. He nearly caved and swept him up there and then but Harry had to be realistic. He was angry. And lessons had to be learnt first.

A low growl came from him involuntarily, and he continued through the gap between Louis and Gemma, looking at Niall blankly who stepped to the side before striding back the way they came.

“Go.” Gemma whispered, “ _Hurry_.”

And Louis did, hitching the waistband of his jeans up and patting his hoody pocket to check the box with his present was still there before tracing in his footsteps.


	13. Chapter 13

The study was smaller than he remembered. Last time he were here things were different, not just the room but the two of them, they were different. And it was as if it knew. Like the dark wooden bookshelves all old and rustic, that’d seen far more stories, witnessed harsher trials than theirs, remembered him too and were watching him, judging him. This wasn’t his house and yet he’d been welcomed so willingly so many times to which he’d betrayed and now, well now the room cast a different light on him than that night Harry dragged him up here and tied his shoelace.

That night felt like a century ago.

“Don’t-,” Louis froze, arm held out to grab the back of the chair, “you stand.”

His hand dropped and so did his heart, or maybe it’d been down there for quite a while now, in the pit of his stomach. In fact he wasn’t so sure where it was anymore because there were moments were he could taste it, the blood it pumped in his throat onto the pallet of his tongue and others when he heard it, as if it were right there in his skull making his head throb.

“Talk.”

But no that was definitely in his gut.

His fear of Harry hurting him had been well and truly soothed by his pack and Gemma but the guilt was never going to go away. It was clear Harry was conflicted. It was right there in his own fidgeting, his hands scrubbing his face, then his feet turning, then again. Hands, large and strong - Louis’d missed them - sat on his hips then they dropped and he turned again, pushing the air out of his lungs as he faced the long window, nothing but a dark silhouette from the blinding light outside.

There was a plant on the window cill that he was sure wasn’t there before either, billowing in the corner from the light breeze where the pane was cracked open.

“I- I don’t know where to start.” Louis didn’t like his voice.

He stared at his outline. So tall, so long. This boy was so grand in every sense, the physical was just the lip. He was born to be a leader, bred to be strong and ruthless. Yet Louis’d seen the side to him that wasn’t. He was kind and goofy and intelligent in modest servings that didn’t beg recognition.

After no response, he tried again. “There’s nothing to say that can erase what’s happened.”

He could so easily walk up behind him, snake his arms around his waist and nuzzle into that warm back, feel the security he needed but didn’t yet deserve.

“I know you’re angry with me,” He tried to clear that horrible rasp, taking one step forward. “I don’t want you to soundproof anything. But I… I don’t want to fight either.”

Harry turned his head too fast, his body slowly following until he could raise his eyes and meet Louis’. “You’re right. No use going over old ground.” As if he sensed Louis’ courageous step, “What’s done is done.”

“I know, I- can I just - I really want… to, um,” He suddenly looked crucifying in this light, the whites of his eyes standing out a little too much, everything else so silent as he waited for Louis to finish, “I want you to know that I regret not being honest from the start.”

Harry was quick. “You said you felt nothing at the start.”

“Well when I knew that I liked you, when I knew that I - when I knew I was starting to feel things for you,” Louis looked to his toes, the tiny scuffs on his converse easier to bear than that hazy glare. “I should’ve respected you enough to bite the bit and be honest.”

Harry dipped into silence again.

Louis peered out the window behind Harry, all he could see was green - gardens upon gardens. He looked to the side and saw a high pile of books, his eyes drawn immediately to one that was bookmarked in several places with the title having the word ‘ _hunter_ ’ in it. Some information textbook or something.

Now Harry moved.

“I don’t doubt your remorse, Louis.” He added two more to Louis’ one step, closing in on him and bathed in the way Louis looked uncomfortable. They were small, but still there; these tiny threads of venomous anger spotted throughout his system and those parts enjoyed to see him cower. “I’m not stupid.”

“Well, neither am I.” Louis’ nose begun to scrunch, his eyebrows pinching together and Harry nearly smiled, a frown of his own tugging as he peered down at him, hands rolling over each other in the front picket of his hoodie. “I know that what we had wasn’t nothing and if you were _actually_ going to hurt me like I- well like my parents want me to believe then I wouldn’t have come here and put myself in the position of being the sole human in a houseful of wolves.”

Defiant, his chin rose a little. He swore Harry was smacking his lips to stop a grin and he didn’t know if it irritated him.

“So, you know,” He wasn’t going to pout, eyes flicking back to that book momentarily, “If there’s any doubt about whether I’m in this for real…”

But Harry was all up before him now and Louis was either shrinking or Harry needed to stop wearing boots that added two unnecessary inches because this was ridiculous.

“I guess not.” Louis nodded, peered down to see the Alpha was indeed barefoot and he screamed internally. Harry took a breath so sharp it made him jump, blue eyes springing up, “You’re not entirely to blame. It’s true I should’ve revealed my identity, so. I have my own deceit to apologise and make up for.”

God. Louis’d already forgiven him. “Harry no,” If he were honest it wasn’t ever really an issue because he understood; he got it. “That’s not fair I-,”

“But that was it.”

Louis stopped, shoulders tense. He squinted at Harry whose frown had taken full residence by now, looking at him like he were trying piece things together, whether he should do what he wanted to do or, “That was my apology.”

“And your making up?”

Maybe it was too soon.

Louis’ shoulders drew incredibly tight as he prepared for the worst.

But there was a chuckle, deep from within his sternum. And Louis blinked. Harry’s lips stretched into a small grin but then he ducked his head and it was gone, pushing him past him to go to the door where he told Louis to stay put and left basking in a whirl pool of that cologne, Louis did just that.

Given the small window of opportunity, he headed over to the book that caught his attention and upon closer inspection, he felt his heart, that was slowly rising to his chest again, shatter.

_‘Wolf Hunters - reside and time: The Collection.’_

Flitting through the pages, he lifted the hardback carefully from the stack, being mindful about keeping the bookmarks intact. Harry had been doing research. For how long he had no idea. Obviously he’d known about him for quite some time so it hurt Louis to know that all along Harry could’ve been haunted by these words, these facts and statistics and techniques all littered through these worn pages like a wolf’s very own nightmare.

“Bit self indulgent of you.”

All Louis’ efforts to be careful were diminished, slapping the book close at the sound of his voice. He closed his eyes and begged Harry to see the light side.

He felt him moving behind, closer, stealth like and inaudible from the lack of usual footwear.

“Why do you do this?” He placed the book down, staring at it then turning to see Harry closer than he thought.

He was holding an envelope between the forefinger and thumb of his right hand. It was made of thick card, with a ruby wax seal. Important.

“I like to keep myself informed.”

“By _reading_ about it? This book-,”

“-It’s gruesome.” Harry conceded, joining Louis near the desk with too many books on it. He drummed his fingers on top gently, tips grazing against the worn cover, holding the envelope still within his palm. There was something weird about how he was looking at it and it made Louis want to swipe it right off the table.

“Exactly,” Instead he placed his hand on top of Harry’s, a tender moment, something that made even Harry’s muscle taught and his gaze flit towards him. “Idiot.”

There was a dark cast over Harry that was being steadily lifted with each passing second. And they both knew it. It was like all this time Harry’d been dwelling, building his own anger up and up, overthinking, imagining and making up his own reality that drove him to the brink of insanity - the realm of which he wasn’t accustomed to anyway. And now Louis was here and he could see him, touch him, hear him. Smell him. He was reminded that it was all in his head. His ego was hot and ready to fight, wanted to argue but his sense seemed to slot a few coins into the machine when he were around and the dark urges just seem to fade away, his view on the world a lot calmer when he were in it.

Harry swiped his fringe to the side with a careful caress, fingers barely brushing the skin beneath. Louis’ pupil’s were blown, wide and searching his own, his lips, a faltered second of lowered defence and Harry had him. He dropped his hand and slapped the envelope into his palm, shaking his head, “Tickets. To England. I figured since you were so obsessed with everything to do with my heritage and seems to be smacked senseless with amazement every time I mention anything _remotely_ to do with home, I’d take you there. Flies out Monday.”

If there was a book that was titled ‘ _things to expect when you’re expecting_ ’ that had nothing to do with pregnancy in the slightest and begun with the most likely to least likely he would out right bet his entire life’s earnings this right here would be right at the bottom of that list. The back page. The closing credits. An after thought maybe, alongside Liam’s oath to never wear anything yellow - _not even once, the colour should only exist in nature not man made product_ \- right there with the least likely things to happen.

Plus wait, no he has school on Monday-

“Schoo-,”

“It’s sorted.”

Oh well _alright_.

“You’ve told them I’m not going to be attending because of unforeseen circumstances or just because I fancied hopping across seas with my boyfriend?”

Louis grabbed the envelope with both hands as it were presented to him, running his fingers over the embossed pattern on the card, flipping it over to marvel at the seal. The pretentious fuck.

“I er, I don’t know really,” Harry’s rumble interrupted his awe, and he looked back up to green eyes twinkling into a small smile, “when I say it’s sorted I mean my Father sorted it.”

“Oh.” Oh. Louis nodded.

Then it settled. The realisation of what this gift actually was struck him and he came across all giggly, nerves a long gone memory as from that moment something lodged back into place and it was all okay again. Harry was up there, smirking down at him with a gratification that came with bringing him this joy; he was the reason for the giggles. Their relationship still had a hole torn right through it but Louis always preferred patchwork to seamless anyway.

“And since when did we make this official?”

Harry could see his neck from this angle, the part of it that was hidden behind the gape of his thick hoodie, the bones of his clavicle that he wanted to mark, sink his teeth into and suck so hard Louis would ache.

“Huh?” He was wide eyed and wondrous, looking up at him and Harry wanted him so bad. Missed him so bad.

“Boyfriend.”

Louis swallowed. “What?”

Harry’s hands were at his waist and Louis’ world spun.

His hands were on him, warm and wide, slipping underneath his hoodie so he could grip him over his thin t-shirt and _push_ \- his grip grew a little tighter as Harry seemed to be guiding him backwards. His bum bumped the edge of the desk and by instinct he gripped it and realised what was happening, just as his bottom was pulled up and back onto the desk, a few stationary items sliding with him as those hands pushed him back so he were sat comfortable.

He was catastrophically slow about it all, considering every word as his eyes dipped to Louis’ wet lips - he licks them when he’s nervous.

“You called me your boyfriend, just a second ago.”

Louis’ palms lay flat on the hard mahogany top, envelope flat beneath one. “I did?”

“Mmh.” Harry nodded, bracing his arms either side of Louis as he leant in, his torso bending a little and that cross was nearly going to pop out.

“I did.”

“Just a second ago, when you were talking about your school.”

He did.

“Feel a little offended that you didn’t even ask me first.” Harry pouted but it were nothing like Louis’. Harry’s was almost always revolving around a smirk, something smug about it that made Louis want to roll his eyes and slap his chest. Whereas Louis pouts and Harry wants to roll his tongue against his skin and slap his ass.

"M'still mad at you Louis."

Louis was hypnotised, looking at those lips shift and mould around words. He swallowed. "I know."

It was amongst the daze Louis’d found himself in, staring into those eyes like a fish on a hook, too aware they were both leaning in for a kiss they both yearned for more than the oxygen they were deprived of, that he still had Harry’s present sat idle in his pocket. He raised his eyebrows and pouted, Harry nearly growling when there was a hand on his chest pushing with small might.

“Well if you’re gonna be a wuss about it,” He smiled and Harry stood up straight, watching Louis with caution as he made sure the envelope was safe before dipping into his pocket, “we can do it properly right now, make this boyfriend business all official and stuff.”

When he pulled out a small midnight blue velvet box Harry’s mouth popped open and he stepped back. Louis could’ve burst out laughing because that was the most openly gobsmacked he’d ever seen him. In all the five or so months of their acquaintance had he ever seen Harry falter so fast, his eyes wide that Louis had to snort, “Oh don’t flatter yourself.”

His jaw snapped shut immediately.

Louis was effervescent - something so easy about him that Harry will never have. Sure Harry could be effortless when it came to things like prestige - born into it, style - never considered it too much, money - born into it, and manner - a flow to his actions and words that are sewn into everything he does, his overwhelming presence left in the wake of every room he enters. But Louis didn’t need any of that. He just is. No trimmings, no established foundation from his family or fortune, he was just Louis William Tomlinson and he was there and he was blunt and lovely and down on one _knee-_

“Er…”

“Harry Edward Styles,” Louis grinned up at him staring down at him, hands wide for some reason at his side as if he were bracing something, “would you do me the honour of being my boyfriend?”

There was a twinge in his belly at the name Edward. But now was not the time.

Because Harry turned into something soft and Louis swore that was a _squeak_? Or maybe that was the floorboards. Either way Harry was shaking his head, mouthing some words silently as he hauled Louis back onto his feet and looked at him, “I hate you more than you’ll ever know.” He was still shaking his head, a chuckle, “I really do.”

Louis giggled as he became the victim of strong hands again, this time _pulling_ him in and cold but soft, always so soft, lips attached themselves to his and they were kissing. And it was liquid smooth and strong, meant to be a fleeting thing of the moment but turning hot too fast, hands hard on his waist, up his back, pulling still. He were on his tiptoes and his arms were around Harry’s shoulders, so solid he could hoist himself up right now. Louis’d forgotten how good it felt. To feel so wanted and small and breakable. Harry’s hands could crush him but the knowledge that he would never but made Louis feel so vulnerable in the most addictive way, heart feeling full, his pants a little tighter.

Harry broke away first, eyes pinging open and straight to his lips, both of them, staring at the other’s rosy red and slicked with spit. Nothing romantic about that, but it didn’t need to be, Louis wanted Harry for all that he were and there was an animal laced through every fibre.

“That a yes?”

There was no point in pretending he couldn’t feel Harry, his heels falling back to meet the ground with a soft thud, peering down between their bodies that were no two separate things again. He bit his lip at the growth between his thighs, Harry being less than graceful when he groaned and palmed it, “Fucking hell.”

Louis looked up, teeth still sunken into his lip and _God_ Harry was going to paint his body with bruises. “Yes. Fucking- yes.”

Clearing his throat and readjusting his bandana that’s been tugged a little by Louis’ wandering hands, he realigned to the box in said hands, bringing it up to inspect closer, openly admitting he wasn’t paying much attention to _what_ it was before.

He popped the lid and saw it, nestled between the two silk cushions to preserve. A silver ring - genuine, in the shape of a rose head that was blossomed nearly to its fullest. The band had it’s leaves embossed either side. The box was unlabelled, so it wasn’t new, vintage, rare even. _Expensive._ “Louis…”

“You like it?” He didn’t need to lift his head to see the hopeful look on his face, his voice already plagued with it.

Honestly? It was the most imposing ring he’d ever owned, silver being the colour he chose among any other - gold made it feel too flashy. But the size of it, the weight indicating just how expensive it really is as he plucked it gently from the soft pillows and turned it over between his fingers. It was royal and imposing and rustic and perfect. “I love you.”

Harry placed the empty box on the side and slipped it onto the ring finger of his right hand, right next to the silver engraved band his Mother bought him. Louis took his hand gently, afraid he may cause some phantom harm to him and looked at the new addition. He was smiling when he nodded, eyes crinkled, “Looks perfect.”

“Thank you.” Harry said, dipping to plant a wet kiss to his cheek, his cologne eating Louis up.

“Really?” He replied, closing his eyes for a beat longer once those lips and left his skin.

Harry looked back up from admiring his hand to frown at him. “Of course. This may now be my favourite-,”

“No,” He was quieter despite his interruption, somewhat shy which he wanted to scrape away but the more he fought it the more the vines wrapped and pulled him down, “no I mean, did you- you love you me? You mean it?”

He was the rock and Louis the tide, he was pain and Louis was freedom and Harry would be better off dead without him whether he were destined to be either his destruction or salvation, and yes, he loved him.

“If I didn’t, your limbs wouldn’t be still intact.”

Louis thought he knew how to ruin a perfect moment quite perfectly until he met Harry and he overtook him by a mile.

“Such romance.” Louis’ nose scrunched up.

And as Harry sniffed the air, eyes shifting to just beyond Louis as if he’d detected something, Louis only just that second gauged the horrendous marking to the underside of his jaw. A blood red mixed with an angry shade of purple blotched along the underside and now he was looking at it, he saw another just lower than that, right on the length of his neck.

“Well that went considerably well.”

Harry risked breaking his neck in half turning round to match the face to that voice.

Gemma leant against the door way, casually. “I have to say Brother, you don’t half stress.”

“You knew they were there.” Harry ran his tongue along his teeth, shaking his head when he looked back to Louis who held up his hands, “You little sh-,”

She continued, “Told you he wouldn’t be mad for long.”

She winked at Louis and pulled a face at her Brother who turned away from them both.

“Gooey centre,” Roman motioned to his stomach, smirking until he caught Harry’s eye and dipped back behind Gemma.

Louis tried to smile, giggling a little strained. Now he’d seen it he could shake it. Those marks on his neck. He looked up, the conversation through the room blurring into an underwater blend with his thoughts pulling him out of it like this, Gemma beckoned for him to follow as Roman was already hopping down the stairs. Harry was in his peripherals, he looked to him, so handsome.

Now they were both looking at _him_ , a little worried. He must appear out of it. He had to move.

He joined the three of them on the landing and descended the first set of stairs, eyes ahead, voice quiet and mind bereft besides the blotched ink like markings splattered along that neck.

They weren’t marks that were put there by any great pain; not the sort of affliction that was violent or triggered by any means of conflict. There had been no ensue of struggle in the process. Louis knew what they were. It had to be that because his brain was working overtime to bring up _any_ possible counter reasonings that would explain them otherwise, but he was coming up empty handed every time.

“Darling Louis.”

How Louis made it to the bay lounge without tripping and breaking both ankles was the result of some miracle.

He uttered a pardon, head kicking up to see his Mom - Anne, stood with a small gathering of females who he couldn’t identify. They all ranged in ages and height and even skin colour. It felt formal. Felt like he’d just interrupted his own Mother’s book club with the way all ten or so of them had turned from their circular sitting formation and peered at him with expressionless faces. He was particularly drawn to an older lady, probably late fifties, kind grey eyes peering at him over the rim of her glasses.

“Um-,”

Louis sounded dumb, looking to his left to check that he was actually meant to come in here and hadn’t accidentally stumbled into room amidst his vacant mind. Gemma was hung around the doorway chatting in a low voice to Roman who was stood with his arms crossed, listening and nodding.

Anne got up, Louis heard her excuse herself politely and glide over to his position.

Harry was the other side of him, his presence apparent now he’d stepped forward and given her a kiss. She held onto her Son’s shoulders a moment longer, her immaculate fingernails pressing into the material of his flannel as she squeezed once and let go.

“Louis.”

“M-mrs, Anne.”

“Mrs Anne.” Harry echoed, smiling at his feet.

“No need to be nervous, it’s quite alright.”

It’s quite alright.

Apparently it’s quite alright that here stood the boy who is responsible for her Son’s - her now _only_ Son - recent breakdown and betrayal that jeopardised their entire family’s safety by harbouring support and acting as a mole for an imminent attack on said family that would seize their future heir right from underneath their noses.

But it’s alright. _It’s quite alright_.

Louis thought her absurd, unbelievably beautiful and wonderfully complex. If not a little nauseating with how much power she holds within the width of her palms and chooses to exercise none of it as punishment; opting for forgiveness and understanding over bitterness and vengeance.

“Now, we have a lot to talk about,” She was holding Louis by both shoulders, walking alongside him as she guided them from the room, “a lot of which should take place over a glass of something much stronger than Mrs. Eppany’s herbal tea in there.”

Once back out in the corridor - one that Louis didn’t recognise because their place was practically a _Labyrinth_ \- she turned him softly and looked him hard in the eye. “Desmond and I will sit with you tonight after seven when he returns. Does that sound like something you want to do?”

It sounds intimidating and everything feels weird and those marks are still on Harry’s neck but he’s nodding.

“Yes definitely.”

“Good.” She squeezed his shoulders the same way she did Harry’s, “Then it’s a date. The five of us will dine past seven. Until then I’m sure there is plenty of lost ground between the two of you,” She regarded Harry who was the quietest he’d been since Louis’d known him, imposing but silent at his side listening to his Mother, “conversations that should happen in private and stay there.”

Louis thought she knew what she meant.

Harry cleared his throat, despite his size, appearing small, “Is everything settled for Monday?”

She was looking at something South of Harry before smiling, an easy smile that stretched comfortably and lit up her emerald eyes, all the Styles apart from Des had that same smirk. “Of course sweetheart, your Father made sure of it.” She lifted his hand then and it was clear what had caught her eye, “Beautiful.”

Her pause was short as she dragged a fingertip over the silver embossed rose, “Absolutely beautiful.”

She needed to say no more as she left briskly then, bidding them farewell until the evening while the ghost of her smirk lingered in Louis’ direction, knowing it was gifted by him.

 

 

*

 

 

“Uh, wasn’t the exit for the terminals that way?”

Louis brought his head back forth to the interior of their car, swizzling around to stare at Harry, panicked at their missed turning.

Harry however, couldn’t look more relaxed or less concerned, sat slumped in the seat next to him with a concentrated frown worn handsomely as he tapped away at his phone screen. Louis’ eyes dipped to his jaw that was smacking around gum again - _always_ \- and called his name.

“Harry!”

It was annoying, the nonchalance that _oozed_ as he turned his head, not his eyes, just his head, until his thumb finally pressed that send arrow and the click of the phone locking echoed and then - only then, he had his full attention and that smirk.

“Yes babe.”

He was wearing a brown fedora, grey tweed blazer, grey jeans, purple plaid shirt with three sodding buttons and brown boots. On paper it sounded simply vile but on person - on him - it looked orgasmic.

“We’ve missed the turning.”

With a swift check out Louis’ window he shook his head, “Nope.”

“I’m sure of it,” Louis turned again, seatbelt pulling against his powder blue jumper as he looked back at the highway zipping the opposite direction, “it said exit for all terminals with the little aeroplane thing.”

“Are you calling me stupid?”

“No.” Louis retorted, “Maybe just lacking basic navigation skills but.”

“Well your attempted insult failed because I’m not the one driving,” He paused, pointing a finger to their driver up front, “Damien is. So please, if you want to chip at anyone’s sense of direction, please go ahead and commence a half witted attack on our driver of five years. Also, congratulations on the backfire, because all of the above proves that it isn’t me that is _stupid_ , nor is Damien, but yourself.”

The heat of the glare he was receiving, the strong jaw working around that gum, the nostrils that were a little flared and the arrogance that Louis could only blame _himself_ for, made him so hot it was all he could do to not unbuckle and assemble himself onto Harry’s lap right that second.

“Is it too late for a refund?” He deadpanned, swallowing but not turning away from that sound glare.

There was still tension between them and everyone, even non-directional Damien, knew it.

Even after their exchange of gifts and easier than anticipated reacquaintance, followed by their talk. Even after that there was still fragments of unease and Louis couldn’t help but feel responsible for all of it and maybe, even a little nervous.

Harry’s parents had agreed - after several rounds of that strong stuff that Anne had proposed earlier in the afternoon - to allow their relationship to rekindle. It was tough, the talk. Gemma cried twice, Harry cracked his knuckles approximately eight times in the space of two hours and Louis felt like he were living someone else’s life.

But the agreement was settled. They were to keep their involvement covert until Desmond were belt to converse with the council. Interspecies relations were forbidden and greatly punished and it was nothing Louis didn’t already know, but with Harry’s precedence, the Style’s name would act as a powerful tool. But it were a fifty fifty chance. It would either go one way or the other; they would be excused and put under strict authorisation to continue albeit discreetly in the name of the Alpha, or, they run the risk of Harry losing his title or worse - execution.

Louis nearly passed out at this point, but Harry assured him it was rare. He couldn’t remember a time someone had been executed outside of unsolicited murder.

But still. Harry's side of the trauma was one thing, overcoming Louis' disposition was another. They had no idea where to start with Louis' parents. They couldn't keep them in the dark for much longer, they were too smart for that. And they were planning a strike. That's all they knew. But Louis promised he'd work with them on that, keeping them informed and when the time is right, they'd have to be approached.

That was something to be picked up post - trip. The encyclopaedic knowledge on wolf society Louis was gathering was becoming a thick layer of anxiety at the bottom of his stomach and he found himself wondering if it was worth risking lives for this.

Louis jumped a little when he felt the cold metal of rings brush atop his hand and long fingers coiled around it gently, looking up to see Harry peering out of his own window, his thumb rubbing absentmindedly over Louis’ knuckles.

Then he remembers Harry. And he remembered all that he is. From the day he met him and positively hated him and where they are now. And he’s reminded that yes, it’s very, _very_ much worth it.

“Louis I’m offended you think I’d let our first trip be anything but over the top.”

“Oh my God.”

Harry had that lopsided look on his face, the rate of his chewing slowing, “What?”

“Have you…”

Harry’s eyebrows raised, smile stretching out again, “…have I?”

Damien’s voice sounded through the intercom and they both looked to the screen separating them.

_“Okay young Master, pulling into security now. Shouldn’t be too long there are no other scheduled departures so, if you want to gather yourselves we shall be alighting in around four minutes.”_

Harry thanked him and Louis had lost the ability to make his jaws connect.

“I forget how rich we are.” Harry was giggling and it was so cute and Louis’ heart was so full, “Until times like these, when I’m reminded how _unordinary_ it all is.”

“So you didn’t even need tickets? If it’s a private flight you didn’t even need the tickets in the envelope you gave me.”

Harry peered out Louis’ window again, watched as they pulled round the back route of the airport which led to the private hangers. “Not really. Just needed a token.”

“And wait- times like these?” Louis’d intwined their fingers sometime ago he can’t remember when, “How many young things have you hired a private jet for Styles? Huh?”

Harry’s giggling ceased, bubbling through a little as he kissed the back of his hand. “Zero.” He winked at Louis, letting their hands drop on the console between them, taking up his caressing with his thumb before eventually sighing and adding, “We own the jet, it’s not a rental.”

 

*

 

Louis learnt several things about Harry in the seven and a half hour flight. The conversation started off on a light note, filled with the promises brought by the bubbles in the champagne, which Harry let Louis have most of - partly because he knew Louis liked it and wanted to grant his baby with everything he ever wished for, but mostly because he needed to stay alert and sober as possible for the duration. Why? For two reasons, these being two of the most interesting - when drinking an entire bottle of expensive champagne to oneself - things he learnt about Harry.

He hates flying. He said there was something very unnatural about the physics of it all, said technology was more unreliable and unpredictable now that it were a hundred years ago. To which Louis reminded him he was half human half beast, absolutely _nothing_ natural about that.

Aside his semi-fear of being several thousand feet in the air, travelling at hundred of miles per hour transatlantic, there was something about flying that made him incredibly horny. And Louis was loose and giggly when he finally admitted it, Harry rolling his eyes fondly at the cackling boy opposite him.

“Is it the light headedness?”

“What?” Harry grunted, sitting back from finishing off their complimentary meal. He hadn’t really touched much of it - the nerves kicking in and all.

“Your blood thins up here, the pressure and stuff,” Louis shrugged as he explained, scooping the final forkful of his lemon meringue into his mouth with a soft moan. He munched delightfully, covering his mouth with his fingers as Harry watched, and swallowed. “So you might feel a little light headed.”

“I don’t know.”

And he didn’t. As much as he despised it there was something about being tucked away far away from the majority of humanity, yet still so close to another human that the thought of getting his dick wet made him horrendously horny.

So to keep his inhibitions about him he strayed from the alcohol, even though he’d paid for it all and probably could do with a few glasses of scotch, the glass tumbler sat in the cabinet securely just beyond Louis’ head near the bar was boasting, dampening his tongue.

“Oh,” Harry drew himself from the daydream of whiskey hitting the back of his throat, the wedge of lime ebbing in the amber, the rush of warmth he’d feel, because there was another addictive treat slipping itself into his hold right now, “hello.”

Five foot nine inches worth of warmth.

The blanket Harry’d wrapped him in was forgotten in a pile half way round the table as Louis’ slim limbs slinked through and around Harry’s. Louis’ parted thighs and pretty post-champagne glow was astonishing and Harry promised himself he would definitely be rewarding himself with a full bottle of the stuff if he made it across the ocean without tasting a bare inch of soft, supple flesh south of Louis’ neck.

Jesus Christ his skin really was soft.

“Alpha…” He was never going to get used to that. That  _voice_. The innocence dripped in mischief that knew where it was heading and knew exactly what it wanted, addressing him as his title.

“Yes, my little prince?”

His hands automatically held his hips, helping him to be seated properly on his lap. Or rather, in a position that didn’t make it so difficult for his quickly fattening cock to feel the underside of Louis.

“You think you can give us an hour alone?”

Louis was glittering champagne and amber. Perhaps some zesty lemon left over on his breath too. And Harry clicked the button on the polished wooden panel without hesitation, a clicking sound in the distance going off which made Louis look back with a soft pout.

“Done.”

The main cabin was theirs now.

“Want you…” Louis was temptation at it’s finest. It’s most infuriating.

God.

He was going to get him. Harry had waited far too long and so had Louis. If there were going to be a time and a place it was going to be in London. But not over the Atlantic Ocean.

“Not yet baby,” Harry kneaded his behind, fingers reaching up and snapping the band of his underwear peaking over his jeans, “not, just yet.”

He knew Louis could feel his arousal at its peak and knew that with enough pushing, enough teasing and whining and protesting that he were one more of those pouts away from Harry planting him balls deep.

Harry’s stomach tightened at the thought.

“Let me,” Louis pecked a few kisses, soft and light, to his jaw, “just a little, something.” He got more sloppy on his lips, savouring those full pink abominations as green eyes studiously followed his every move, hands still a force on his behind.

“Let you what?” His words came out slippery slow and Louis was their slave.

He giggled, sucking in his lower lip and shifted back so he could palm at Harry’s cock, getting a low groan from him, hands gripping his cheeks even harder which brought the blush on Louis’ face to deepen.

Louis' gasp came involuntarily, “ _Alpha_ ,”

He rose up a little, the squeeze proving a little more painful that what he liked. Or what he were ready for.

Harry grit his teeth, “Keep calling me that if you want to lose your virginity on a fucking plane.”

He swatted Louis’ ass once and the sound that bounced was delicious.

“I wan-,”

Harry shushed him with a kiss, a rough, greedy kiss that he growled into as he leant up and claimed what were his. Louis’ arms were around his neck and Harry’s wound round his tiny waist, lifting his jumper up so a tan tummy was bare to him and he could nip his sides.

The metal of Harry’s rings were a shocking contrast to the warmth of his skin and Louis gasped into his mouth, tongue sliding against Harry’s, hips rolling on top of Harry’s thighs.

He pulled away with a harsh pop and gripped the sides of Harry’s face. Staring into those eyes up close wasn’t for the faint hearted.

“Please.”

“No.”

Harry swallowed, nostrils flaring with each short breath, repeating himself before Louis even had chance to retort a protest, “ _No,_ no and no.”

Louis squinted, a half smile budding before he clamped it down. “Okay.”

Harry didn’t like the sound of that okay, watching the little shit with caution as he pushed on his shoulders so he’d sit back in his seat again and slipped off his knee.

“Okay.” He repeated. And Harry had every right to be weary as by _slipping_ off he merely sank to his knees and shuffled forward, un hooking his belt buckle while Harry let his hands rest atop the leather.

“Louis…”

He should let this happen. Lord knows he deserves it. They're going to be doing much more in the near future if events pan correctly so the thought of chugging Louis’ throat with his cock got him wanting to shut up. But the thought of his Alpha chugging Louis’ throat, urged him to warn.

“Louis look at me.” It was the authority that got Louis pausing on his zipper.

“Yes sir?”

_The little-_

“Go easy.”

His cock pulsed in the tight confines of his underwear, Louis nodding as he let his lower lip go again, swollen from the amount of time he’d bitten it. He was giggling again too, a side effect of the alcohol littering his veins.

“Why, you a virgin?”

Harry hung his head back and shook it on a begrudged laugh, wondering why he put up with such a smart mouth.

But then dainty fingers pulled his underwear forward and his cock bounced out.

He looked down, chest slowly building as the anticipation of what was about to happen worked it’s way up.

“Fuck.”

He was beyond any other word.

Louis watched his length, thick and heavy as it swayed and he snaked fingers around the base to keep it there, eyes so innocent and wide darting up to Harry before licking the underside of his head.

Harry’s jaw tightened, “ _Fuck_.”

And Louis giggled. And this was how he was going to die. Death by blowjob.

And he did it again, this time longer. And again, then again, tongue wider and flatter with every stroke as he licked from the base to the tip, feeling his solid shaft on his tastebuds, lapping up every vein brought to the surface with his arousal.

Louis’ mouth pooled with saliva at the thought of finally having him in his mouth, finally able to satisfy his craving and please Harry. The thought of Harry groaning because he was full of his dick got him biting back a mewl.

Harry braced a hand against the side of his face, palm spread over his ear, fingers sliding into his hair, because maybe they should talk about this, properly, before harry looses all sense of control. But it’s the last thing his coherency offers him before his feet dig into the floor, his balls tighten and his mouth falls open as Louis’ tongue flicks once over his wet tip before he swallows him, lips pink and pressed around to suck and shit Harry’s hand curls and _grips_ Louis’ hair instead, fingers gaining a good enough grip so he can guide him down.

Weeks on weeks Harry had envisioned this. _Felt_ it almost, during his rut, when all he could think of was blue eyes and soft hands.

He wanted to watch, stare forever at those pink lips pulled tight around his width, working his sore length. Sore because he’d waited so long, aching with the obscene urge to buck up into his mouth and have him take everything he had.

Louis popped off for air, blinking rapidly up at him and Harry’s hand’s snaked around his face, gripped his jaw, thumbing away some saliva, “Fuck…”

But he swallowed him again. Knelt between his spread legs, slurping on his cock, gripping the bottom as he bobbed, the most indecent noises as he sucked and rolled the head of his cock like a lollipop.

Harry was transfixed.

Louis had the power here. He was controlling the pace but that didn’t shut his Alpha up. He had to hang his head back, screwing his eyes shut around a deep sound. He had to stay aware enough so as to not cause him any pain.

As Louis nursed his aching arousal, the minutes felt like seconds, his stamina depleted from holding back for so long, the effort it took to remain seated - mentally and physically - was proving difficult. He felt the slick of saliva and pre-cum dribble down into the crease of his inner thigh, shiny trails left along his shaft as Louis bobbed and gagged lightly with every stroke.

“So good baby,”

Louis jaw must be hurting, be he kept going, too dissolved in his desire being sated, too greedy to care.

“…that’s it,”

His cock was fat and weighty, hitting the back of his throat nearly every time but he soon learnt Harry enjoyed it and so did he, moaning around him in response to his praise.

“Good boy- oh,” Harry’s hands pulled and eased through his hair, “ _fuck_.”

Louis had struggled to keep his eyes open, tried to, so badly needed to see Harry burn into him from above, shirt buttons popped, mouth red and wet and open. But the task was too grand and his cock made his eyes water, slipping close every so often.

But he peered up and saw Harry with his head hung back against his seat, jugular bare, adams’ apple bobbing on a gruff sound.

That sound was his name.

He moaned around his cock, really not wanting to pull off. But harry wrapped his palm around Louis’ that was holding the base and pulling off for a second, Louis realised why.

 _His knot_.

“Can’t swallow just yet - _ah_ ,” Harry hissed, as he pumped his sensitive length, Louis mesmerised by it, his rings glistening as they were soon coated by the excessive pre-cum, “let me-,”

Louis wasn’t going to let him anything. He knew Alpha’s loads were a lot to deal with but he wanted it so bad, felt so good knowing Harry looked and sounded like that because of him, a soft sheen of sweat in the dip of his pectorals. He watched as his knot formed quickly, swelling to the size of his balls and moved forward to suckle his tip.

He sounded angry, a constrained growl through a clamped jaw as he couldn’t hold it and his orgasm ripped through him and exploded into Louis’ willing mouth.

He flinched when the first gush hit his tongue, then tried to swallow desperately as each wave erupted towards the back of his throat, gulping continuously around every twitch, feeling his cock pulse, hands gripping Harry’s knees for balance.

Harry was right and Louis had to open his mouth, letting some of the thick load overflow his abused lips, dripping from his chin as he caught his breath, watching the remains oozing from his swollen tip over Harry's fist, trailing over his inflated knot that wouldn't be fully satisfied until nestled deep inside him.

They stayed just like that. Harry holding himself, fingers dancing lightly on Louis' hand on his knee, eyes closed.

About a minute passed and the world came back to them again. Louis finding this to be a much better alternative high than alcohol.

“Baby.” Louis nearly came from that alone.

He looked up and saw Harry had a towel - it was an unused napkin - and a grin.

“C’mere.” His voice was barely above a hoarse whisper as he cleaned Louis up, kissing him every so often as he went, confessing his love for him with them.

He stripped Louis of his thin jumper came to a stand, pulling him with him. Assembling his decency back into his pants, Harry hummed and dipped to give Louis a kiss again, lips still wet and tasting like sex.

“There’s a bed.” Harry announced, peeling his shirt off and hopping out of his jeans a little clumsily.

Louis giggled watching him, hugging himself until Harry did the job for him, naked sans his underwear and Louis feeling like he was the luckiest boy in the world when he got hoisted up and onto the bed at the other end, soft covers being pulled from their made state to accompany his lithe body courtesy of Harry.

“You know,” Harry said, crawling on top of him, _dwarfing_ him as he glowered over him like that, “I was hoping you’d be bloody awful at that.”

“Why?” Louis laughed, curling his hands around the hard muscle in both biceps propped either side.

“So I’d have at least one fault.”

He ducked and nudged Louis’ nose with his own, simply never getting tired of eliciting and witnessing those giggles from this teeny person. “Think we should sleep for the next couple of hours, yeah?”

“Mhm.” Louis agreed, stretching out beneath him, feeling his toes and knees click. Feeling Harry's still half hard dick rest against his own.

He was already happy with the idea of simply drifting off into a sleep with Harry snaked behind him, his arm slung across his waist and his gentle rumble of a snore lulling him to a slumber in his ear.

But Harry had other ideas.

And he disappeared under the covers, “But first, just one thing.”

And slotting his hands into the backs of Louis’ knees, pushing his legs up and keeping them bent he got to work between his thighs, tongue pushing and probing him into a mind- melting orgasm that had Louis mumbling his name over and over again, before they both drifted off shortly after curled around each other.

 

 

*

 

 

“Please don’t do this.”

“So… I’m right.”

“Why are you doing this now?” Harry’s voice rose, half turned to him half turned away still rummaging through the correspondence on the desk.

“Why are you acting as if it’s me that’s done something?”

Harry let the letters fall and grunted something under his breath. It was something un pleasant and Louis didn’t wish for him to repeat it, feeling a pang of upset in his chest as he watched Harry shoulder his blazer off. He folded it over the back of the chair.

“It has been four days since, why are you mentioning it only now?” He was looking at his jacket, fingers turning the rings around on the opposite ones. “After four days. After our talks, after our forgiveness.” He turned around, a look in his eyes Louis looked away from immediately. “After that plane journey. Didn’t seem to bother you then.”

Not even the expansion of Harry’s feral pupils could deter him from facing him after that.

“ _Harry_.”

Harry bit back too quick. “Don’t act hurt.”

“Why are you acting like this?”

It was like one question had flipped some internal switch in him. Like he’d been waiting for Louis to broach this with him for these four days and had been bottling up the anger, the aggression, the reaction that Louis just couldn’t figure out as to _why_.

“I don’t want to fight about it.” Louis shook his head, swallowing around that familiar feeling he fought too many times as of late, tears begging. “You were mad at me and you, I mean- so you went out and fooled around I get it I just,” Why was he feeling like the aggressor? Dipping his head again to avoid his fucking eyes. “It doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt a little.”

Harry huffed, kept his eyes on Louis as he unbuttoned the front of his shirt and spoke calmly. “You hurt me ten times worse.”

Harry had slept with no one.

He had merely gone out Tuesday evening, alone, hit his foot to the pedal as fast as he could for two hours down the freeway and stumbled into the nearest pub where he so happened to meet a group of omega’s. He wasn’t even that drunk, just angry. Bitter and hurt. He was almost abusive to the poor omega who was so willing and so turned on he didn’t care for how heavy the Alpha’s hands were on him, slamming him into the wall and clamping down on his skin until he drew blood. He were back at his - he can’t even remember his name - apartment within the hour and Harry could smell the slick, feel his want, but as soon as it came to it he couldn’t. He left with as little as an apology and a few bite marks upon his skin.

But was he going to tell Louis that right now? No. His wolf was ruffled, untamed. And he was prisoner to some darkness tonight that he himself can’t even explain.

“Right.” Louis was visibly hurt and Harry was screaming at himself to snap out of it. “I’m - think I should go for a walk.”

As soon as they pulled into the city, Harry came over repressed. Quietly irritable and had been trying to wriggle free ever since.

“No.”

His timbre was in check, his order final, but he knew Louis wouldn’t listen. He was hurt not afraid.

Louis swiped one of the key cards from the desk Harry stood before, avoiding his eyes all the while and responded on his way out the room, “I need air.”

But Louis’d forgotten Harry was quicker, his wrists seized a little too tight and yanked back so hard he hissed and Harry immediately let go. Louis saw the flash of regret and acted like it was fine. There was something more going on with his Alpha, he wouldn’t turn so quick.

“You don’t know these streets, I’m not letting you roam them carelessly at this hour alone.”

“I think we’ve had a long time together after such quick reprieve that neither of us has had time to actually readjust and let it all,” Louis peered up at him as he bent a little to wriggle his feet back into his brogues, “sink in.”

“Perhaps.” Harry’s head accepted this sense; the logic that made perfect sense from this sweetest boy and so wanted to leave it there. Yet his chest still tightened. “But you’re still not leaving here alone.”

Louis sighed, came to stand up fully and flicked his fringe, “You know what I think?”

Harry didn’t reply, lifted his chin a little proudly.

“I think you’re an Alpha and I respect that.” He turned the key card around in his palm and tapped it on his chest, before turning away. “But you don’t get to tell me what to do.”

Louis had no intention of ‘roaming the streets’, no matter how prestige the area of Westminster may be and how the likelihood of anything happening to him was deceased to a minus figure, but he wasn’t going to soothe Harry with that fact. Partly because he knew that Harry knew he wouldn’t and didn’t really need to worry. True, he didn’t tell him what to do, but Louis’ inner sense was tuned to him and he'd always listen. And in no reality would he dare disobey or think about crossing him.

In situations like these he realised why they were maybe so well merged. An Alpha needed an omega, generally, for their opposing yet complimentary qualities. Louis was stubborn and had a temper that ended at a sharp tongue and an aggressive eye roll. He was head strong but he responded well to the right kind of authority. Harry was just that.

On the way in, Louis noted the bar that was sparkling through the tall doors to their left of the stately lobby and so made it his plan to sit and stew for an hour or three. However long it took Harry to drive himself mad and come look for him.

Which wouldn’t take long being so he could just follow his nose.

“Water, please.”

The woman looked at him weirdly, almost smirking until he said, “For now.”

She accepted with a small nod, asked if he wanted ice and placed a thick, bespoke glass mat before him with the bar’s name, ' _Berners'_ , embossed into it. Too fancy for Louis. Perfect for Harry.

When they arrived here, Harry explained their involvement in the hotel's development and their shares. To sum up the boring details they pretty much half own this and one other in Mayfair so when Harry got greeted like an old friend - what Louis would call ass kissing as everyone practically dropped what they were doing to greet him - he expected it. 

Turns out this hour or so wasn’t going to be so painful as he thought. There was a live jazz band softly lullabying the minutes by, the hearty thrum of the guitar and serenade of the old guy's smokey voice made him feel as if he were to close his eyes right now, he’d be taken back to old Rue in New York.

It was forty minutes in and Louis’d upgraded from his water to a vodka pepsi, feeling great when he got his ID out for the first time as he were legal in this country.

An hour in and he figured he were brave enough to try Harry’s poison of choice: twenty year aged scotch, one cube with a wedge of lime. He nearly spat it out on the first sip but to save face in such a well to do establishment, took it like a trooper. Shit felt like acid going down. Louis would never understand why Harry would drink this outside of any situation that didn’t involve a gun pointing to his head and say it were _a delicacy._

“This seat taken?”

He nearly spat out the bleach for a different reason then.

Harry.

“Depends.”

Through his alcohol muffled senses, he just about heard the weight of a body slip into the seat behind him, Louis choosing to stay facing the band, nodding to the man in front of him when he swivelled round quickly to shoot a comment of approval about the song choice. They’d conversed for a good twenty minutes about their shared love for the all time best jazz guitarist B.B King.

He’d also pointed out four times that he wasn’t American and yes he get’s that all the time and no there isn’t _actually_ that much difference between them and Canadians. Dick.

“On what?”

“If you’ve calmed down.” Louis wanted to turn around, really. Wanted so badly to crawl into his arms, have him carry him upstairs and cover every inch of his neck in purple marks that there would be no room to be left to even think about the when’s, where’s and why’s of the other ones.

“Oh yeah,” He chuckled, sounding a little more amused that he should but Louis still didn’t turn, “that temper’s a bitch.”

“ _You’re_ a bitch.”

Louis chewed the inside of his cheek, still facing the other way, his eyes pinned to the glass he was nursing between his thighs, practically empty. He huffed and swung around, slamming his glass on top of the bar, the tender looking at him for another one but he didn’t see her.

“Harry I don’t want to know what happened with whoever, okay? I really - I don’t.”

He didn’t know why he couldn’t just look at him. He was right there, he could see the lump of him, the _length_ of him lounged in the seat next to him. Well not lounged, it looked like he were sort of hunched over, elbows resting on the bar. If he just looked he would know.

“I don’t think I can quite handle the thought of you and…” He shook his head, then again when the tender came over and gestured for a refill. “The more I think of it the more I feel like an idiot for bringing it up I just, I love you, you know? You’re the first person I’ve ever - I mean I’m meant to hate you and now I’m half way across the world with you, alone, I mean. _God_ if that doesn’t tell you how much I love you then you-,” Louis paused, quite aware of his drunken ramblings and he groaned. Now he turned to look and tried for lighthearted, “Then you can give me that expensive ass ring back.”

He smiled and smiled and smiled. Felt like his smile was never fully finished, like his lips were on a continuous outwards journey and his eyes weren't creasing enough and there was a voice somewhere in the back of his mind that lectured about how mixing all this alcohol was such a bad, bad idea.

But then - “Hey,” He pouted, pointed at Harry’s clasped hands on the bar, all a bit of a blur at the moment, “where is it?”

Harry’s voice wrapped him up in his reply, “Where’s what?”

It was only then when Louis realised how much he’d been talking and how much he missed that silken voice that sunk and dipped and scratched in all the right places and how much he misses being wrapped up in those strong arms, completely covered now in a loose, thin black top, long-sleeved and something Louis’d never seen before but sort of loved. If it were roomy on him then Louis could surely substitute it as a sleeping bag. He smelt like fresh aftershave and citrus. Probably took a shower.

“Your ring.” His voice had drawn back, sleepy and deprived of Harry.

Harry spread his hands out before him, looking at all nine - his middle finger on his left hand still donning the embossed silver band his Mother bought him - bare digits, fingers long, palms wide.

“Took ‘em off. The guitar upstairs, I practised.” He sucked in a breath, downing the entirety of his whiskey that Louis hadn’t even spotted until just then and slammed it back down. “Can’t play with them.”

There was not only a piano in the suite, but a guitar.

Okay.

Louis having finally given in and allowed himself to scope his boyfriend, he’d not quite stopped scoping. Something alarmingly different about him that the alcohol in his system was making difficult to pin. He ran a rough hand through his loose curls making him more rugged, more -  _I just slapped this outfit together but still look fresh off a runway_ and Louis couldn’t feel his toes.

“You drink whiskey.”

No, he knew that.

“Thought I’d try catch up with you.”

Harry didn’t laugh, just rose an eyebrow, eyes cold and hooded, “And?”

“I’d rather drink urine.”

He nodded, agreeing silently as he lifted a hand to Louis' bared throat, “Something as delicate as you shouldn’t be drinking a toxin like that anyway.”

Louis’ eyes fluttered, feeling the fingertips grazing his throat like they’d gripped it instead and he leant into the touch, the magnitude of it feeling great. He was victim to his eyes again, not sure if he should speak or not. Not sure if Harry wanted him to as he drank in Louis’ body with a drag seeming so void of anything but so hungry to consume.

Louis gulped and Harry’s eyes shot up.

“We don’t have to talk about anything, consider it forgotten." His jaw tensed, "Dead.”

Louis nodded instantly. Not sure if he was still nodding when Harry continued, “Just wanted to see you were alright. Didn’t want you alone for too long among strange faces. Don’t know who you might meet.”

By now, even if Harry wanted a response, he doubted he could give one. There was something alive in those fingers that was making Louis squirm and his groin stir. He was stoic and removed from himself and still, so still and barely even properly touching yet he had him and he _could_ have him, quite literally right there on the fucking bar if he wanted.

But now he was stood, too tall and gloriously monumental and Louis’ stomach dipped with the knowledge that he were his. Harry nodded to the bar tender for one more, leaning over to state his order and came back to bend and give Louis a soft kiss, missing his lips by a hair’s breadth.

“See you upstairs.” He was still close when he spoke, the coarseness in his voice practically vibrating against Louis skin. The band introduced their final song and Louis couldn’t remember why he ever wanted to stay facing the other way, “This one’s on me.”

He watched him leave, several faces lifting to do so too, weaving through the dim light of the bar until Louis' mind merged his black attire with the rest of the world and he turned to see a bottle of lemonade with two straws and a wedge of lemon stuffed in the top.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos if you got it. If not, have I been too subtle?


	14. Chapter 14

The sun was bright and so wonderfully painful as it seared through paper thin eye lids and pretty much semi blinded him. His brain having woken up mere seconds ago, Louis actually tried to spit it out; as if he were trying to pull a stray hair from his tongue he thought by doing so, the sun would go away.

Turns out no.

Turns out, their bedroom window was situated perfectly to catch the earliest of the rising sun which was - Louis arched his neck, one eye closed to peer at the antique bedside clock, _7.01AM._

The noise he made was inaudible to most, but perfectly legible to one. The one, in fact, who was responsible for the first few piercing rays of light bringing on a premature hangover. He rolled over so he was facing the darker side of the room, the cotton sheets tucking into his creases, curling up like a tiny ball so that the only part actually visible were a few short strands poking out the top.

His head, holy shit his head.

Harry was to blame for this. Him and his whiskey that tastes like burnt wood and cigar ash. Him and his stupid need to fuck when angry. Him and his stupid, _stupid_ big grin and croaky voice and big dick that is definitely 60% of the reason why his throat feels like he swallowed a razor this morning. Him and his fucking 6AM starts-

“Morning.” There was an amused lilt to his gruff.

Louis did not need this at 7:01 in the morning when his head felt like led.

He didn’t respond. Even when the bed dipped at his side, then his other side, as Harry seemed to crawl his way on top of him. He simply curled up further with a teeny tiny groan that would’ve gone undetected, along with his earlier huff, if it were by non supernatural ears.

“Hey,” Harry whispered, smirking at the bundle of sheets billowing and shuffling beneath him, those strands of hair becoming even more disarrayed as he turned his head, “you know why you get hangovers?”

Louis would kill him. Couldn’t, _physically_. But would if he could.

“It’s your body’s way of reminding you what an idiot you are.”

He chuckled, tickling every bone but Louis’ funny one as he tried to unwind his little human from those sheets. It was just another wonderful thing about being what he were, holding these capabilities to being able to conveniently detect when people are in any amount of pain. He could pick up on most if not all human emotions and could definitely sense Louis’ post-ethanol discomfort.

He stopped wrestling with Louis’ tiny hands when he heard a mumble from beneath the cover, “M’sorry?”

Pulling the sheet down from his face Louis sighed, _feeling_ the state of his hair. “Think I sprained my liver.”

“Think you sprained your fucking skull.” Harry sat to the side, not wanting to crush him. “You were the human incarnation of a whiskey bottle last night.”

Louis groaned, looking to turn away but not being allowed by the two hands gently guiding him back around, something he was already hoping to put an end to but when he felt that warm chest, bare and familiar and that smell, his smell, he was all for it. He still whined though, scrubbing his face into Harry’s chest and mumbling into his skin as an arm pulled him a little closer, “Shut up.”

Thinking back, it were bittersweet to remember Louis’ state in the early hours of this morning.

“What were you thinking? Whiskey, of all things.”

On one hand it were painful, because if it weren’t for Harry’s very minor act of infidelity they wouldn’t have had that conversation in the first place. Nor, if he could have gotten a grip on whatever that was last night that took a hold of him and shook him of any shred of gentlemanly decency, leaving him with nothing but a sharp tongue and clenched fists resulting in Louis’ departure.

But granted, it was amusing seeing Louis declaring - amidst many, many hiccups - he were fine and that if he thought the lemonade was a sick joke he could go to hell and no he did not need guiding to the bedroom, doing a grand job of walking into the kitchen and curling up on the centre counter after wiping it clean of it’s utensils.

“Are you sponsored?”

Harry drew back from his thoughts, running his fingers softly through his fringe, brushing it off his forehead, “Pardon?”

“Are you sponsored, to drink that stuff?”

“Whiskey?”

“Mmh.”

Harry laid the back of his fingers against his forehead, it was hotter than usual. “Why would I be sponsored?”

He kissed it before manoeuvring from beneath Louis, and after a little protesting Louis answered him, watching him from how Harry’s departure had left him laid flat on the mattress. Too sore to move.

“B’cause the only way you’d get me to ever drink that shit is if you paid me good dollar.”

Harry had disappeared and reappeared quick time, nursing what looked like a damp flannel between his hands, and when he’d crawled back onto the bed his suspicions were thankfully correct, Louis practically moaning into the icy cold salvation laying across his pounding forehead.

“So sweet, my prince.” Harry wanted to be patronising, smiling to himself as he continued, “You have to remember I’m built for the hard stuff, you however-,”

“I know, I know, you said.” Louis waved a limp wrist through the air, “I’m too delicate for that toxin, _I know_.”

Sitting back on his haunches, Harry stuttered, frowning at what proportion of Louis’ adorable little scowling face he could see. “I said that?”

“I’m an idiot,” Louis waved the same hand, slapping the bed blindly until he found Harry - his knee - and rubbed it a little, “But I meant what I said about not wanting to talk about anything.”

Harry stared at his hand, completely stumped. “What?”

“You know about, the thing.”

“To which thing do you refer to my bewilderingly evasive love?”

Louis removed the flannel for the sole purpose of glaring at him. “I refer to the marks which lay upon your neck you poetic philanderer.”

He continued glaring, even though there was a minuscule growl surfacing somewhere behind that chest, an irritant that he could practically see in those eyes as they shone for a second, before letting it go. Harry cleared his throat and nodded, he looked down at Louis’ half naked state. Actually he lay fully naked, Harry made sure of it, peeling off every item of clothing as per Louis’ request at the hour of 1:16AM, before slipping him underneath the covers and instantaneously succumbing to the slumber that had been beckoning ever since that last whiskey.

Harry nods a final time, to himself more than anything, deciding to move this little shit from the bed immediately.

Said boy couldn’t be less happier about the situation being thrust upon him however.

“Ha- _hey what_ -,” Exasperated, Louis begun swatting lightly at the hands pulling the sheets away from his body, “Harry I’m naked-,”

Why, above all things, that should either bother or halt Harry he had no idea.

“I know.” He hauled Louis from the mattress, puffing out a small laugh at Louis’ defence mechanisms, breaking against Harry’s attack like bark beneath his feet, and carried him bridal style through his protests. “What I don’t know, is what conversation we had as to where I agreed we weren’t going to talk about it.”

Louis was still bustling within his grasp, wriggling in a stubborn rage that was adorable and futile as he got transported by a wall of muscle into the ensuite, which is where he took pause at long last, to take in the clinically white surroundings. One, _huge_ mirror stood proud and quite unnecessary at the far end of the room, taking up an entire wall in it’s size, sort of awkward and looming yet grand and imposing that you really can’t not look.

If Harry were a mirror, he’d be that mirror, Louis decided, as he were plonked down on the cold tiles, opening his mouth to give him a piece of his mind only to be cut off again by the water opening up directly above his head.

He gasped and screwed his eyes shut, mouth pink and wide as his hair was drenched and flat to his head in seconds.

He sort of stood there in shock for a moment or two before spluttering the water from his mouth and shaking his head, coming to just from beneath the spray with his fingers scrubbing his eye sockets only to be greeted by a familiar chest stopping him dead.

“Regardless of what conversation you made up in that drunken little head of yours, I think we _should_ talk about it,” A plastic lid just popped and Louis blinked his eyes open, a little red rimmed and sore, “I think you should know that nothing happened.”

Louis peered down to the sight of Harry’s hands - rings back in place - lathering up something foamy, his limp cock laying heavy and thick between his thighs. Those hands were on his shoulders, rolling them backwards and kneading his flesh, the scent of elderflower and vanilla filling out his senses, the steam fogging up the glass ceiling-to-floor screen already. Those hands. Those fucking, heavy hands. His head was light and he never knew a hangover was this easily cured.

But then Harry’s voice slapped him back.

“Wait-,” He rolled his head back to centre, shaking it to get his fringe to un _stick_ , “you didn’t do what?”

Looking up at him was a mistake. Harry was so tempting like this. Something soft about him at this early hour, warm and fresh in the shower steam, some strands of hair sticking down, some not, some still curling and forming little droplets, and his eyes- focused on his hands and where they were going next on his body.

He squirted some more creme into his palm, lathering them again and sighing, “I was mad at you, really fucking mad-,”

“ _Really_.”

Harry looked at him through lowered lids, slapped both palms onto his bare ass and squeezed, even though little hands came to rest on his biceps and he got a light mewl from pain, “Yes.” He breathed his response against his ear, nipping the lobe with little force before continuing Louis’ cleanse. “I wasn’t thinking right and so I took a drive about twenty miles out, ended up in a bar with some boy.”

Louis covered his hands with his own, fingers cascading over the firm muscle of his stomach where his abdominal was toned, down his flanks to where his hips met waist and it softened by a little, but enough. Harry took homage here, gripping as if it were a promise of some sort, locking eyes before continuing fluidly - with Louis’ hands still lightly laid atop, back to his favourite curve of all.

It was an effort to keep the moaning to below wolf hearing level. Which, even with the thundering of a waterfall shower, was impossible. “An omega?”

“Can’t even remember his name.” Harry’s mouth was at his neck, fingertips dipping between his crack.

There was a sound Louis made in response, but neither cared.

“You didn’t-,”

“ _No_ ,” Growled with conviction, Harry’ chest vibrated against Louis’ as he pulled and slammed their hips together. He licked his lips, walking Louis back so he were pressed against the cold tiles, muffling another gasp from the boy with a sloppy kiss.

He waited until Louis grew used to the biting cold and eventually evened out the arch in his back. “I couldn’t. Thought I could but, I got back to his apartment and left him there before a layer of clothing was even removed.”

“You-,” Surprisingly breathless, Louis licked his lips, “you left him high and dry?”

Harry was indignant, frowning and dangerous as he grit his teeth, pulling Louis up by his thighs, “Would you have preferred me to have sunk my dick into him, little prince?”

Oh what a conflicting array of emotions. Louis was so enamoured by this boy that currently had him airtight in a backwards human wheelbarrow against the _coldest_ fucking wall in history, his tummy dipping delightfully as he could feel Harry’s previously flaccid cock grow larger and more intimidating by the second right beneath him, his hair, dark strands strewn recklessly against the sides of his sharp face, dripping. Yet that thought - what he just said, the thought that he actually got to that point where he had someone else willing and ready and could’ve easily gone though with it, that stung. So no, he definitely would not have preferred if he’d have sunk any part of him into anything.

He thought he conveyed this by shaking his head, turns out that wasn’t good enough.

The blow to his ass was hard, wet. The sting chased up his spine as he arched it and cried out.

“N-no, Alpha.”

Lips were at his neck now it were bared so deliciously for him and Harry took every advantage, mouthing openly at his adams apple, his oesophagus and nipping at his pulse points, just because. He pulled back and knew his eyes were blown from the look in Louis’ when his head fall back forward.

“I would never, Louis.” He was serious and Louis loved him.

He nodded, readjusting his hands from his shoulders to his neck, fingers gripping the wet curls that were sticking to his skin, “I know.”

He smiled. Half smiled, lopsided and dopey and Louis _really_ loved him. “I love you.”

He was a fit of giggles and ‘ _I love you too_ ’ as Harry nuzzled his neck again, the wonderful dawning of how it really was a wolf’s favourite resting point slowly casting over him and those giggles got lost as he turned his mouth to the wet mop of brunette hair, kissing him softly, fingers tugging lightly.

But then giggles ceased altogether as Harry’s soft pecks and nips turned into one fat lick over his main artery and he let his legs drop to the floor.

Louis’ heart palpitated, feeling heavy in his chest.

“Think I should…” Harry’d already made his mind up, wouldn’t stop even if Louis told him to. Which Louis couldn’t. Didn’t know what was happening until it was. Until he caught another glimpse at eyes that were a deadly onyx, wild and hungry as he lapped his full lips obscenely before diving straight back into his neck.

Louis was high pitched and caught off guard, “ _Shit-_ ,”

His head was being angled by one hand. One, singular, hand that drove home how easy all of this was for Harry; to manhandle him like so. Louis gulped beneath his palm which only made it screw a little tighter around his throat, holding him just on the underside of his jaw, angled to the side. Harry’s tongue lapped against his pulse point, almost priming a spot for something, tongue growing dry from the amount of times he licked until it was replaced by plump lips that _sucked_ \- so, fucking, hard-

“Harry-,” Louis struggled, a strong thigh slammed between his own, holding him there. Pinned. “ _Ha_ -,”

That mouth was merciless on his skin, drawing all the blood available to the surface of a square inch or two, sucking and sucking, his tongue prodding a little as if to keep things smooth but there was nothing smooth about it.

Louis keened against it, it _hurt_.

This is what a love bite from Dracula feels like. His teeth were grazing against the lump of skin that was being vacuumed so harshly between his lips that he may as well sink his teeth in and draw blood. Louis didn’t sign up for this - he knew wolves bit but not like this - is this how they show affection?

But then, in the flick of a tongue, it was over.

And his skin bounced back, released from Harry’s- _holy mother of all things obscene_ \- swollen lips and his hand fell from his jaw.

“Now,” He was breathless, which made the monstrously hard cock bouncing around against his naval, just below Louis’ line of vision, increasingly difficult to resist, “that’s a mark.”

And call him bat shit crazy, but Louis wanted him back on his neck.

Lifting his fingers to inspect his new oddity he hissed at how raw it felt, but his stomach tightened at how territorial it was. The look Harry had on him too; the pure entrancement he had when he eyed up his work and kissed Louis’ lips so softly, so sensually - the same tongue that primed damage seconds before, moving mild and easy against his now. Louis wanted more of that.

“What is this?” Ah. There’s his voice.

“Well I can’t bond you properly, not yet,” Louis’ head whirled at the word _mate_ and _yet_ , Romans’ face storming him straight back to his kitchen that day, “so this,” He trailed fingers over his wet fringe to move it from his eyes, down to his neck and thumbed over the splattered bruise, “is my mark for now.”

Harry leant into an arm as they kissed again, bracing it on the wall. Their lips would be so sore by the end of the day if they continued but such is life.

“So what you like, own me, or something now?” Louis feigned offence as he watched Harry’s back, water falling over his rippling muscles as he collected shampoo and another small bottle from the silver tray. He bit his lip, kicking his bare bottom as he bent over and got a frown from the startled Alpha.

“No, not like- I don’t _own_ ,” He caught Louis’ mischievous eye and sighed, “Right.”

“When do I get to mark you?” He fiddled with the small bottle of shampoo after popping the lid and smelling it, squeezing some of the creamy goodness into his palm and much to the Alpha’s disapproval, threw it to the floor carelessly.

“I have never and will never-,” Harry winced and spluttered around a few stray suds streaming down his face, small hands working up a lather in his long curls. He bowed his head further so he didn’t have to be on his tiptoes, “stop you from marking any part of me.”

Louis grew gleeful, guiding Harry the best he could, the most gracefully he could - which wasn’t very - back underneath the water, “Oh yeah?”

Harry’s hum came shortly before he scrubbed his own locks far more efficiently, ridding the rest of the lather from it himself and washing his face in the process.

Louis took his chance. Stepping forward he came up before him while his eyes were shut and he we vulnerable, pushed him against the glass panel and dropped to his knees before Harry could even protest. His head spun a little from the quick drop, his hangover letting him know that _hi hey I’m still here_ but the pain was forgotten, the throbbing in his neck were much more powerful and residing far higher importance than a dumb headache.

Harry barely got the first letter of his name past his lips when the tip of his swollen cock passed by Louis’.

His hands slapped back to grab something that wasn’t there, palms flat against the condensed glass instead, fingers scratching and squeaking, Louis’ pale blue eyes shining up at him, glistening and innocent as his tongue pressed against the underside of his shaft and he gulped down half of his cock.

 

*

 

“So I swore you said you were from Manchester… did I say that right?”

“Manchester, yeah.” Harry responded, thanking the lady before ushering him to the end where they’d collect their orders. “It’s further up North.”

“So, why London?”

Louis shivered in his coat, readjusted his scarf. Harry’s arm was around his shoulder in no time, a kiss to his forehead as he pulls him into a warmth that he’d find nowhere else. He was wearing a thick, beige shearling coat and Louis thought there was no two things that were better suited than his Alpha and that material.

“We only stayed there for a few years, moved down here for business.”

“So this is practically your home?”

“Pretty much.”

“Cool.” Louis nodded, rocking on his heels. His tongue felt like sandpaper. He was still in shock Harry even bared to kiss him with his post-alcohol morning breath and act like he tasted like cotton candy instead. “Actually ‘scuse me?”

He detangled himself from beneath Harry’s embrace and leant over the counter a little to get attention the man tending to the frothing machine, the one with the moustache that had him thinking of nothing else but the Pink Panther. “Could I get a lemonade please?”

“With your…” Moustache man pointed to the silver jug that looked like it were full of hot, steaming milk.

“Please.” Louis nodded, dropping two pound coins onto the counter. “A ‘ _seven up_ ’, please, right there.”

Harry thought he were far too polite for this place.

He pointed to the bottled drinks in the refrigerator and the man nodded and Louis smiled, thanking him and zipping back to his Alpha, humming before nuzzling back into the cave of warmth and safety. Until he realised he was being stared at. And not just by the young girls gathered at the end of the counter, giggling and gawking at the two boys cuddling openly in public - but by the boy he were in fact cuddling.

“You okay up there?” He raised his eyebrows, linking his hand around Harry’s that fell limp around his shoulder.

“I have so many questions.”

Louis pouted, looking to one of his rings, a singlet on his forefinger, “Shoot.”

“It’s below freezing out, we are in a coffee shop where you specifically asked for warm milk in your mocha- whatever, and now you want to drink an _ice-cold lemonade?_ ”

It wasn’t any less weird than drinking black coffee with another shot of espresso in it but, he had a point.

“I see your concern.” Louis smiled, raising to his tiptoes so he could kiss the confusion off of those lips. “But I don’t know, I guess I just have the taste for it since - oh thank you - since you gave me the taste for it last night.” Louis collected their drinks, hot and wonderful and making his insides bubble and his tongue dance at the promise it brought.

“You drank whiskey with lemonade?”

Louis drew back from blowing the steam through his lid, “Why did I not think of that?”

Harry winced as the searing hot liquid hit his tongue, licking his lips, “What?”

Louis continued, oblivious, “Why did I have to make a point of drinking the damn thing straight.”

Harry took his bottle and shoved it in his pocket, holding his cup with one hand.

“Because you’re a stubborn little princess that needs the world to know you’re equal parts titanium and lava, that you are glitter and fluff.” Harry braced a palm on the door to let Louis out and a few others in, shooting a hot glare at the girls who were still whispering and staring. Until they saw Harry’s rapid pupil expansion and one shrieked and dropped their caramel, shit in a cup looking drink down their grey top.

“Gosh you’re right.” Louis peered up at the tall buildings, squinting at the bright - _cold as fuck_ \- winter sun. “But still. Lemonade quenches my thirst. Wish I’d had it a lot sooner last night.”

“You’re a mystery to me, Louis. Start off on the hard stuff and finish with pop.”

The first mouthful was the most important of all the mouthfuls. The apex of the pleasure, the defining moment when creamy, hot liquid meets mouth and the morning’s woes and day’s anxiety melts away for the duration of that gulp because it’s all okay now; now there is warm milk and coffee and chocolate and warmth on his pallet. He was a tea man, but coffee was a morning’s one true remedy.

And Harry, with his non sensical ramblings, is interrupting that vital sip and Louis swallows too fast, frowning to look up at the oaf when he’s brought to a tremendous stop by a singular hand to his gut.

Just about managing to keep hold of his paper cup he staggers backwards, “Ow- _je_ -,” Louis stutters, watching the hoard of cars pass by him thick and fast.

He steps back up onto the curb, or at least he tries for there is definite lifting from the Alpha, and looks to his feet, pulling at his scarf. He’s pretty sure the entire curb side is looking at him like he’s a moron.

“Careful now,” But he looks up to see the glittering eyes that match that rumble and decides he doesn’t care, “this isn’t like back home, they see a green light, they go.”

Automatically their fingers were woven and Louis looked to them.

 

*

 

_**Zayn: I know your mad at me but I also know you love me and it’s nothing a beer and some Ciao’s pizza can’t sort right** _  
_**Zayn: *you’re** _  
_**Zayn: Seriously man I’m sorry. Gemma told me everything. When you get back let’s meet up after school. Love u** _

_**Zayn: Also** _  
_**Zayn: If you don’t lose your virginity in London you are missing out on possibly the most romantic fuck of your life so don’t disappoint** _  
_**Zayn: Oh and Liam lost his phone in the snow. Literally. Long story** _  
_**Zayn: Use protection x** _

“What’s that?”

Louis slapped his phone to his chest so fast it actually hurt.

“Nothing,” He laughed. Wanted to cry. He was lying to a fucking Alpha, he was going to see right through him how hilariously pathetic ha-ha- _ha-_ , “Zayn says hi. Hopes we’re having a good time.”

Harry nods, a smile followed by a sniff.

“What?” Louis probes, nudging his bicep.

“Found some condoms in my case when I unpacked it. Turns out Gemma slipped them in.”

Louis was well and truly, honestly baffled at the rules of the universe. How two souls were so polar opposites on what factor but absolutely identically and so absurdly well matched with another. Those two were honestly made for each other and it wouldn’t ever make the slightest bit of sense to him.

“Charming.” Then he realised. “You read that didn’t you.”

He closed his eyes, groaning when he heard a giggled, _‘yeah’_.

London was weird.

Not because it’s an unknown city in a foreign country but because they were different in London and that was really weird. The change wasn’t an unpleasant one, nothing that had either of them rethinking their attraction or coming to odd epiphanies about their lives, but it had exposed a layer of the other that back home never has and probably never could.

In Canada, Louis was home, comfortable. It was a marching ground he knew in and out and Harry, well likewise, in a fashion. He’d called it his home for several years now and as far as Louis knew, had no plans for changing that. Even though the Alpha’s family originated in Britain, the _North_ , of Britain, that Louis is going to want to beg and beg until Harry caves and takes him one day, even he were out of his comfort zone.

Going away together was obviously a huge step forward in their relationship. Especially with their unique situation. The trust was final and this was the result. But it were as if, comfort wise, they’d taken several steps back. And it were in the little moments that it really shone.

Louis observed Harry through the thick age of the crowd, being strictly instructed to stay put and not move. Because they were obviously entirely different things. He was probably just under a head taller than the majority of the crowd so he couldn’t lose him as he conversed with an elderly gentleman stood behind a stall, nodding enthusiastically as they spoke, with a kind smile and gentle touches to his arm.

Louis found himself smiling, stood there in the middle of the portobello market, knowing not a single face but his and yet, he felt so at home, his breath fogging up before him as he casually browsed the rails of vintage clothing he’d been limited to while Harry was off doing whatever he was doing.

“Hey,” Another fog of breath, a few inches above his, “come on.”

Louis sniffed, allowing Harry to take his hand and guide him through the crowds, keeping him so close it were as if his arm was incapable of extending beyond that point.

“So Alpha, where we going?”

Besides the bubble of pride that formed in his chest, he looked back to Louis, trying to keep the smile off his face when he spoke. “Don’t say that too loud. We don’t know who we’re around.”

“Oh, alright.” Louis understood. Nodding, looking over his shoulder at the girl he accidentally just bumped, deciding against an apology when she looked at him like he were dirt. “But couldn’t you just… kick their asses if they got funny?”

Thanks to Harry’s ten mile long legs and lack of care for barging through people, they were already out of the thickest gathering and heading to a side street, Harry nodding and thanking the old man as they passed him. He sighed and pulled Louis to his side properly now there was room, “I can’t just  _kick someone’s ass_ , baby.”

“Wouldn’t break a single bone?”

“I’m not a monster.” Harry watched their feet as they strode together, Louis’ soundless rubber soles of his all black converse moving in sync with his caramel suede boots, echoing down the desolate street. “Not without cause, anyway.”

“Not even if they called you out?”

Harry chuckled, “No.”

“Not even… if they tried to fight you first?”

“I would diffuse it some other way.” He answered, checking behind them once before crossing the narrow road, still holding Louis close.

“What if they hurt me?”

Louis thoroughly enjoyed the dimple that formed, the Alpha smiling with tight lips. He pushed his hair back and glanced at him, “I think I’d break more than a few bones my prince.”

“Mr Styles.”

Louis didn’t even see him, well, them, the two tall men that were - man alive - _taller_ than Harry, stood all in black, long coats and gloved hands but warm smiles, taking Harry’s offered hand as he softly unwound from Louis’.

“It’s good to see you.”

They exchanged greetings, introducing Louis and engaging in short, polite conversation before the two of them disappeared through the high, thick panelled door that was also blacked out.

“Oh dear G…” Louis gazes down the stairs, low lit and amazing, even _those_ , just he stairs told him he were somewhere special. “What is this place?”

“A private art gallery.”

Obviously Harry Styles would take him to an art gallery. A boutique, members or by invitation only gallery. Of course, _obviously_.

Harry took his coat along with his own, handed it to the cloakroom attendant, “One off pieces you won’t find anywhere else in the world.” Harry encouraged Louis down the stairs, “Oh apart from this one watercolour of a chaffinch, that was duped in Russia two years back, man got fined over half a million.”

“Christ.”

The walls were all exposed brick and the only light was the spotlights hung above each piece and tiny bulbs running along an open wire, pinned to the ceilings.

“Look I know, that you’re not as into all this stuff as I am,” He was talking low and it definitely felt like the place you should talk low, whisper, cough into the ball of your hand. Preferably not even breathe. “Just wanted to indulge you in a few windows of my life.”

“Harry I - oh,” Louis was listening, but not looking, too busy gawking at the bulbs hanging so low you had to dodge them, to see the man with a tie and a tray full of champagne flutes.

“ _I’m so sorry_ ,” Louis apologised but the man dismissed him kindly, stepping back with a small bow as Harry took two glasses and sauntered off without a word.

Floating as one through the different rooms, each one had different themes, different concepts that Louis thought would be all lost on him but weren’t. Without prompting he found himself going off on a quiet tangent about evolution when staring at an upside down painting of a naked man seemingly fishing, not realising how he were rambling until he saw Harry listening intently, a small smile resting so easily on his lips.

“Um… yeah,” Louis concludes, nodding and bringing the glittery golden liquid glass to his pursed lips.

Harry relinquished his opinion, briefly - far more briefly than his, and they moved through the next room.

The ceiling was particularly low and it was a little darker, this whole place feeling much like an underworld society; a darker spin off of Alice in wonderland. Louis whispered that he wouldn’t be surprised if Tim Burton had administered the design and nearly fell over when Harry whispered back that he commissioned it.

“Want to know a secret?” Harry asks, right in his ear which made the hairs on Louis’ neck rise to attention.

He holds back to allow two men pass through, rejoining Louis near the bench where he’s staring at a humongous photograph, blown up so large that if felt like the room was the set up and the scene in the photograph was reality.

“Yeah…” He responded, distracted.

It was a landscape of a lake, a grand country house probably later 18th century situated upon the hill in the distance and one person, gender unknown, bent down over the edge of lake. Many thought it were a child, but it was debated. There was something haunting about it, something that made you panic for the person but no one knew why and it was that, the unknown, that made you as the viewer feel just as vulnerable.

“This is my favourite.”

He cares what he thinks and he’s nervous and Louis’ nervous and it’s these times, these honest moments that strip back everything else that has come between them so far and leaves the two boys, gentle and young and so in love, just wanting to be happy and to _make_ each other happy. That’s why Louis loves London.

“I can see why.”

Louis sits down and pats the bench and Harry plants his behind right next to him. It’s nice. And it really was so dark in there that now they had stopped and were sat, the intimacy it encourages had a chance to render itself around them, make itself known and flaunt it’s endless possibilities. They were made for the dark, the two of them together, in an underground basement, alone in London, with art in it’s rarest form and love in it’s most forbidden. Pure.

Harry chose this gallery not because he’s visited it since way back from when he can remember, nor because he loves the work it carries inside but because each and every time he’s visited this he’s seen couples, sat here on his very bench or moving fluidly, quietly together through these close halls, making him feel alone, rejected. He enters with such magnetism and enthusiasm, and every time leaves feeling inspired but empty.

And now. Now there are individuals passing them by, maybe feeling the same way, maybe not. But what matters is he’s not empty anymore and he doesn’t need to come view the art and interpret it for meaning, to reflect or to even inspire. Because he has his very own muse sat right next to him with a gentle, low, pulse and a soft hum, resting his head on his shoulders.

He smelt like fresh air and coconuts. Harry kissed his head.

 

 

*

 

“What’re you doing?”

The accusation in his voice made Louis slam the receiver down, missing several times and nearly dropping it before turning over on the bed, flicking the hair from his eyes.

“What sorry what did you, uh…,” His sentence fell off, eyes too, falling to the half naked, half wet Alpha that was stood in the entrance to their room, scrubbing his hair roughly with a hand towel. “Hi.”

“Are you ordering room service? Right before dinner?”

Pushing himself up, he thanked Harry for his quick comment on how lovely he looked in his shirt and jumper, pulling it down feeling like eyes were all over him even though it were quite the other way around. “I’m just uh, thirsty.”

It’d been a long day of tourism and they had lunch four hours ago and the last drink he had was two hours ago which he actually crossed a two way street for, specifically just to get to the vendor which had the bottle of it in. Plus the room service was covered by Harry so.

Harry finished up patting the rest of his torso dry and threw the towel over the back of the lounger. Louis hadn’t stopped watching him since he caught him and he felt a little perverse.

“Please don’t tell me it’s…”

Silence from the other half of the room meant yes it absolutely was.

“You and fucking- why have you never had this craving before? Not once have I seen you gasp for this drink as much as I have today.”

“I- well I blame you, of course, for forking out on that final drink and two it just…,” He sighed, mind casting back to that last bottle he had, cool condensation rising from the open neck, “it tastes really good.”

Harry wanted to argue, wanted to bite back about how he’s entirely made up a good proportion of last night and how he will never be drinking whiskey again as it clearly doesn’t suit him but he doesn’t. Instead he sighs. He sighs and he nods, dropping the towel from his waist and turning, feeling Louis’ heart skip a beat as he pulled on some black underwear.

“S’just weird.”

He doesn’t want to talk about it, not now not ever. But he knows Louis knows. And he knows that Louis has avoided bringing it up for obvious reasons. But he also knows Louis will probably be anchoring after that conversation more than most at some point in the very near future and well, they are in London, where it happened.

“Why?”

Harry smiled to himself, slowly buttoning his black shirt, very much taking his time. He knew by the sound of his heart that wide eyes were on him and he was going to milk every second.

When he raised his head he looked at Louis at length, testing something, the silent strength in their trust, before clamping his jaw shut and nodding.

“My Brother,” He said finally, knowing the second he said it he’s done it; he’d opened the gates and there was no way of shutting them without spilling all. “Lemonade was his favourite drink. Looking back, we may have been dealing with an addiction.”

The matter of hot Alpha male dressing slowly in front of him was blurred from importance. Louis looked at him, lips popping open from shock. He was wondering when the time would come that he’d feel comfortable to address it. When he’d be comfortable enough and trusting enough, to speak his name and confide.

“Edward.”

Harry nodded.

He turned around with another sigh, talking as if he were trying to make the whole thing _casual_. “Yeah, insisted on drinking it a certain way,” He huffed a laugh, nothing amusing him but the memory of his identical self turning his nose up at a plain glass of the fizz, “two straws and a wedge of lemon.”

Louis’ heart catapulted and dipped and grew so erratic that Harry had to stop to turn and see he were okay, pulling his trousers up properly.

Studying him he were physically fine, but his heart was definitely raised to a level of concern. He were looking at him funny too, sort of like he were checking if _he_ were okay not the other way around.

“Is that why you…” Louis felt so sorry for him, his heart was breaking.

But Harry looked like he were concerned. Worried, walking over to him and tipping his chin with long fingers and gentle finesse like they were fine. “Why I what?”

He wrapped his hands around those fingers, studied the length of them, the clipped nails, the mildly calloused knuckles and muscled expanse of his hand. He kissed the rose and then kissed his knuckles, closing his eyes around tears he felt uneasy to shed.

“It’s okay Alpha,” Louis was soft and lovely and Harry was just confused. It’s been a weird day. “We don’t have to talk about it.”

“About my Brother?”

“Any of it,” Louis used his arm to stand up, cupping his strong jaw between his palms, “Edward, the lemonade, the whole family thing nothing.” He kissed him softly, feeling Harry’s hands come to join at the small of his back. “And if it makes it easier I won’t drink it anymore.”

Perhaps it wasn’t the most logical or even sensitive thing to say. It sounded actually quite ridiculous but it was the first thing to pop into his head and honestly, yes, by now he should have learned to maybe not trust most of his initial instincts and take a step back and _think_ first but, there they were.

“It’s a drink, Louis.” Harry purred, clearing his throat before squeezing his hips and stepping back to collect his long jacket from the hook, “it’s not a big deal it’s just, odd, the correlation and all.”

“But it means a lot to you - the connection you make with it.”

Was it possible to grow irritated over a damn drink?

“It’s a fucking drink, Lou.” Harry shot him a look even though his was voice calm, pulling the coat over his shoulders, “Let it go.”

“Fine, okay, it’s just. You’re the one that gave me it like that so I thought you must hold a special thing for it and I get it but if not okay,” Louis replied, a little under his breath and mumbling as he quickly pulled on his brogues, tying the laces in a hurry, “but you’re right it’s fine I’ll stop-,”

“ _What._ ”

Louis finished his bow and brushed down his grey pants. He didn’t hear him properly but when he stood up he definitely saw him. And that blood boiling awful glare.

“What? Sorry?”

“Did you do drugs,” Harry pointed to the floor, “last night?”

Now Louis was confused. “How… _what_?”

The clock was ticking and Harry’s phone rang out loud which made Louis jump but not him, ignoring the sound vibrating from his back pocket in favour of holding Louis’ eye, “Tell me the truth.”

“Harry.”

He glared.

“Oh my-,” Louis huffed, throwing his hands up, “what is wrong with you?”

“I definitely want to ask you the same question. You’ve been saying things all day, little things that don’t add up about last night, so you’re either losing the fucking plot or you did something you shouldn’t have.”

“Why do you sound like my Father?”

Harry laughed and Louis jumped again, the prick. “Don’t compare me to that cunt.”

He either spat back and the night and possibly whole trip was ruined or he pushed past it and answers him with a very itchy, very bitten tongue. “What _things_ are you talking about?”

This time Louis gripped the poster of the bed, jumping yet again when Harry roared, ripping the phone from his back pocket, taking one look at it before speaking calmly through the receiver, “Five more minutes.” He thumbed it off, the device hanging between his fingers. “Things I supposedly said about you being delicate, not wanting to talk. The _lemonade_.”

“You literally sat down and said all those things to me! How can I be making that up I-,”

“When?” Harry looked desperate, confused and quite terrifying, arms out wide. His voice hadn’t raised by much but there was that little warning vein surfacing on his neck. “When the fuck did any of this happen?”

“Last night at the bar!” Louis’ confidence grew through his voice, surprisingly when he reflected on what he were being met with. “Before you sauntered off and left me that lemonade.”

The air was so thick and Louis was so scared and so sick of the word lemonade that he wasn’t gripping the pillar out of fear anymore but stability. He was growing so confused that it gave him a headache, a lingering nag that’d been there for a few hours now blossoming wildly behind his eyes sockets. Harry’s face was that of pure disbelief and that hurt even more. Why was he acting like none of this happened? Looking at him like he was disgusting enough to make something like this up?

“This is my fault.” Harry shook his head, eyes well and truly glazed over. He didn’t even see Louis anymore, the ghost of memories running through his mind from the past few months, “Fuck me, I’ve really fucked you up.”

Harry scrubbed his face.

He’d dragged Louis through hell on earth, lying to him, manhandling him and wanting to touch him before he turned eighteen. Gaining his trust then fucking off and leaving him for three months with _nothing_.

Harry let out a concession of no’s as he paced, feeling Louis coming to his side immediately.

He’d made him lie to his parents - still is. Moved their relationship from a solid ten to a one hundred in a matter of weeks and now they’re here in sodding London and Louis has his possession _sucked_ onto his neck and he’s had no time to reflect on any of it.

The prophecy said something about hurting him but it didn’t state why or how or even who. Maybe this was it. This was their destined fate and it wasn’t what he and Gemma had thought all along. Maybe he were to fall in love but screw him up so royally that he’d grow sick, deranged and withdrawn from reality.

“Harry let’s just go,” But Louis didn’t see it and he was there, he’s always there. His small hands tugging at his jacket sleeves so he could get a proper look at him, the boy who he loves and has snatched his innocence, “please? Can we forget this conversation for a few hours and just go?”

How is he going to gain strength against those eyes? He thought about it, looking at Louis like he were counting all the reasons why they shouldn’t. But Louis, dear Louis was looking at him, begging, pleading, lovely and he caved.

A kiss on the lips, an apology Louis didn’t need to hear to know it were meant and they were out the door.

The elevator ride was silent but not uncomfortable, Harry kissing him again and again the entire way down, until Louis couldn’t stamp down on a giggle any longer. He squeezed his hand and the conversation was left, the air was clear for them to at least enjoy the evening ahead for now, it’s what they came here to do after all.

Turning into the lobby, under the grandiose of the ceiling lights, the piano in the corner made Louis remember about wanting to hear Harry actually play a tune on that guitar, when suddenly a waiter stopped on his way past.

“Sir- Mr Styles.” He was holding a tray with a glass and a small bottle of lemonade with one hand, motioning to it, “Your room service?”

Quickly, Louis seized the bottle and cracked the lid open, nodding and thanking him too fast, avoiding Harry’s eye at all costs while the server looked at him like he had a billion questions yet simply backed away with a curt nod.

Louis took a swig of the lemonade and Harry tapped his bum playfully. The man and woman behind the desk - the woman who practically wet herself when Harry first arrived yesterday oh what _joy_ \- guffawed when they caught sight of the two coming down the side and stood up in unison, gawking.

“Mister- ,” The woman started, “Uh-,” Couldn’t finish.

“Sir you- you just…” The man offered, apparently not doing much better.

They both looked at each other, down to the sheets they were fiddling with then back to each other.

Harry slowed, his heels clicking when he came to a halt. “Is there a problem?”

“Did you forget something?” The lady tried again, looking at Louis like she had only just noticed he were standing there. “Was there something we missed?”

Harry shook his head, “No.” He looked to Louis, smirked and pulled a face. Louis suppressed a giggle when he turned back and said, “Just on our way out, Henry isn’t too mad I hope?” He tried for a polite smile but when he was met with yet more gawking and confusion he grew a little impatient.

Placing a hand on the small of Louis’ back to guide him away he nodded, “Okay. Have a good evening.”

“Sir wait!” The man spoke and Harry was done. They were due at the restaurant in fifteen minutes and this is London. Traffic at this hour meant they’d be at least twenty.

Louis whispered a quiet, _'be nice'_ , as Harry stopped, his jaw growing rigid and his nostrils flared and turned on his heels.

“Yes, Noel?”

“Henry l-left sir, just, two minutes ago,” As if he feared his life he clambered for another, “Sir.”

“He left.” Harry clarified.

“Yes sir,” _Noel_ answered, looking like he were a few more seconds of Harry’s glower from needing replacement underpants.

Harry retraced his steps back to the desk, a small crowd gathered there, listening to the whole thing stepped aside to make way for his approach as he braced two large hands atop the counter and spoke directly to Noel. “Why would he do that?”

Noel looked to the lady, who was just staring at Harry, mouthing something silent. Unable to voice anything.

“Because you told him to, sir.”

“I told him five more minutes on the phone.”

“Yes, he said that, sir, just as he lit up a cigarette but then you appeared,” He nodded just behind Harry, where Louis stood, tiny in the grand foyer and unable to really get a listen to anything they were saying, “somewhere over there. You said you were ready and- and left sir.”

Harry didn’t look back at Noel. He heard him. Something about _but now you’re here and I’m truly confused sir if you need us to arrange another car sir, sir, sir, sir, sir-_

He stared at Louis. So small. So delicate. So trusting.

Noel was still talking but Louis was all he could see, the background blurring, his hands shifting in his front pockets, eyes peering about the interior design completely unaware to Harry’s interior self combusting.

His heart bled out his ears, his tongue grew too fat for his mouth and his stomach was acid, white hot, burning acid as he watched Louis hiccup softly, lifting a slender hand to his mouth, from that fucking _lemonade._


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew. Okay so [Edward's](http://31.media.tumblr.com/84686bc4434c604a6b48f162e265586b/tumblr_nf7q1gVVm91tti8vwo4_250.gif) arrival has gone down a treat. 
> 
> I'm getting the distinct impression a few of you want a polyamorous theme to develop and the story I have plotted goes in the opposite direction, however I may reconsider. I'm asking you for the first time if you'd help me out by telling me which you'd prefer? The base of the story will remain, so no details will be compromised but Edward's role in it could change depending.

“Why did you sho- _ow_ , ow,” Louis stuttered as he were yanked forcefully by his arm, Harry realising what he’d done immediately and looking to him with an apology.

He couldn’t however, apologise for his voice. “Quick.”

Having released his grip automatically he braced a hand against the small of his back as they both thundered through the lobby, the piano a calm, contradicting echo to Harry’s resolve.

Louis wanted to question him, wanted to pull his arm back, confused and irritated at taking three hundred steps a second to keep up with Harry’s long strides, but once he caught the look in his eye as they pushed through the doors and onto the pavement, he thought better.

“In.” He was blunt and his voice was stern, dangerous. Alpha.

Louis obeyed, quickly averting his eye from the man holding the door to the black vehicle open for him. Harry was right beside him in no time, slamming it shut.

“The Ivy.” He flicked through a few ten pound notes until he had about fifty and slapped them into the drivers hand immediately, “Make it fast please mate.”

His driver Damien wouldn’t have needed the motivation to break a few road rules, but drivers in general, throughout London are absolute sticklers. It didn’t matter who Harry was, the man checking the reflection in the mirror and quickly signalling to pull away, they were in a rush for no one. The route would only cost twenty if that, but he’d be lubricated easily by the extra thirty in his pocket.

As if he’d forgotten where he were or rather, _who_ was there, Harry sat back, legs bent in a way that made him look to long for the vehicle, brushing his palms up and down his thighs and falling back into his seat. It looked like he wanted to burn a hole through the window, eyebrows drawn painfully tight, jaw too.

Louis thought of last night. And how he was a long line of black at the bar, more casual in a loose knit. Here he was offered with much the same at the late hour once again except he had a shirt, black and open half way, always. A black trench that his arms filled out nicely, the rest of him following suit in tight and black.

“Hey.”

Harry zipped round, instantly looking to his loose form, “Seatbelt.”

Fish mouthing, Louis clambered for the belt, clicking it in place a little shakily.

He was being watched and he didn’t like it. Normally he’d not much mind those eyes trained on him, but tonight was different. Right now he looked like he were the meal and dinner was cancelled.

“Louis I need you to answer me and not get distracted.”

He needed answers to many things and had no ways of getting them right now. He were afraid he may lose his mind quite literally in the next few seconds if Louis’ responses are anything along what he expects but he can’t do anything about it. He thought he felt the most out of control he’d ever get with his anger. Maybe with Louis, when he can’t control his urges, that was fucking awful too. He thought he knew what losing control and being absolutely and irrevocably helpless felt like but that was nothing in comparison to this. Right now he felt stranded, lost without a map, trapped without a tool.

“You’re scaring me.”

Oh he really was innocence's incarnate.

Spying the half empty bottle of lemonade resting in the cup holder at that precise moment was dreadfully timed.

Harry didn’t look away from it. “Last night, at the bar.”

Louis was uncomfortable in this position; his spine bent at an odd angle, hips not quite aligning and he’s pretty sure he’s been holding his breath and hadn’t blinked since the door was slammed shut but he just didn’t dare move anything that wasn’t his mouth.

“Yeah,” Louis let go of that breath, running his tongue over his teeth, his gums drying out. “What about it?”

“You said I gave you,” Harry plucked the bottle from the holder with two fingers, lifting it to eye level to watch the tiny bubbles rising to the surface one after the other, “that drink. I gave you a lemonade. Right?”

“Why are you talking as if I’m making this whole thing up?”

Louis shuffled in his seat, looking at the bottle Harry was surveying, “What happened Louis?”

The car came to an abrupt stop and an arm shot out instinctively across Louis’ lap, a little bit of the drink spilling over his knuckles. Not moving his hand from his lap he licked away the residue, still holding the bottle.

“I…” Oddly Louis was lost in that, prolonging his response. “You know what happened - Harry why are you asking me these questions I thought we said we were-,”

Louis’ jaw was seized tightly, turned harshly. He gripped Harry’s wrist that lay in his lap.

“I love you.” Harry’s voice suggested otherwise, pupils taking over what beautiful green was left. “But I swear if you don’t answer me soon I will shove this bottle in the side of his neck.”

That was the issue with being human, _inquisitiveness._

Louis side eyed the bottle when he heard a crack, Harry’s hand turning white from the haughty pressure it executed, the glass splintering but not breaking. He looked at the driver who thankfully seem to remain non the wiser.

“O-okay…”

He wasn’t an omega. If he were he’d pick up on Harry’s stress signals and respond. _Immediately_. Harry’s stress would be his stress and he’d feel it in his gut, just like Harry can pick up on him. It wouldn’t matter that he were scared or nervous or uncertain because the trust between Alpha and Omega would be there and he wouldn’t doubt him, wouldn’t need his own questions answering in that situation. It’d be almost automatic, an invisible pull to obey. The questions came later. Regardless.

Harry let his jaw go, yielding what force he had there in his eyes. “Louis.”

Louis wouldn’t ever doubt what was meant by an Alpha’s voice, ever again.

“You came down to the bar,” He swallowed, looked to the driver again to see him divert his vision in the mirror immediately, “y-you sat with me. I was drunk I wouldn’t look at you but you said - no, _I_ said I didn’t want to talk about anything that had happened.” He checked to see Harry was listening, which he was, resolutely. “I can’t remember exactly everything which was said I was, well, you know. Um, but you said whiskey wasn’t suited for someone so delicate I remember you saying that and you, uh, you touched me, here,” Louis motioned to his neck, fingers dancing just to the side of that mighty bruise sucked into the side of his throat, “a-and, I think that was it. That’s when you ordered me the drink and said you’d see me upstairs.”

Harry’s eyes hadn’t left the bruise since he’d motioned to it. The hand wrapped around the bottle was still wrapped around the bottle and that vein in his neck had come up in the space of a few seconds.

His silence was crucifying. Only Harry, could communicate so much, with so little.

Louis couldn’t help his shriek when he saw the blood instantly _gush_ from Harry’s palm and the glass crack from the pressure.

“ _Harry!_ ”

The driver was rustled, “Young sir? Is everything alright?”

They were about to come to another red light. Brilliant.

The lemonade had exploded onto the carpet but that was the last thing Louis was concerned about, hands everywhere on Harry to get him to fucking _move_ or speak or something to indicate he realised what he’d just done.

“Harry!”

“What’s going on back there?” The driver was getting nervous, checking into the back seat to see Louis covering most of his view. “Sir could you please- sit back and secure your seatbelt.”

“I’m sorry I just-,”

“Drive.”

Louis stopped, looked up to see Harry staring at the driver.

The light had turned green and begrudgingly, the driver sighed, still non the wiser as to the mini massacre broken loose in the back of his vehicle.

“Harry, Alpha, look at me,” Louis palmed his face, trying to turn it to get him to _look_ , “what the hell is going on? Huh? Tell me- _oh God_  look at your hand,” Louis squirmed, felt like crying because he was so lost and scared and Harry wasn’t saying a damn thing, looking like he was numb too.

Louis picked the largest shard of glass from his palm, gipping when a fresh stream of blood came out with it.

Luckily, this cab was fancy. He was grateful for Harry’s taste at that moment, noticing the complimentary water bottles, chewing gum, newspapers and mini packeted tissues, displayed perfectly at either side of each passenger in the doors.

The job was a silent few minutes, messy and Louis stopped himself from throwing up at least twice. He was just finishing tying the last bit of tissue when he was sure the driver had just announced their arrival, the car slowing down after they took a corner carefully.

“Louis.”

Harry had let him clean him up, his mind too busy with his life flipping itself on it’s back for him to be much use anyway. That was until a big red warning sign flashed before him in the form of a small gathering of paparazzi milling around the entrance of the 17th century building. The building they were meant to dine inside of right now. The building he’d dined at many times before with his parents.

“Louis.” He repeated.

“It’s okay, I got this, we need to go to the bathroom but I got this you’re fine,” Harry was sure he was talking to himself more than him, doing the best he could with those tissues and telling him to apply the pressure here or there, but Harry couldn’t listen right now. “You’re just gonna have to put your hand in your pocket, but squeeze, okay?”

“Louis we can’t go in there.”

Louis’ mumblings eventually fizzled out and he looked at him, “What?”

He turned to look out his window, which was thankfully blacked out, squinting at the paparazzi readying their cameras. “Why?”

If this was happening - and Harry had resigned himself to the fact it definitely is, then there’s no way on this God forsaken hell on earth they can step foot inside that restaurant.

“See those paps?”

Louis nodded, still holding his large hand, warm.

“They’re for me.” Harry sighed, eyes looking more bloodshot than a minute ago. “For us.”

Forcing himself to accept this reality, settling into that upheaval of his life as he has thus far known it, he is left with no choice but to act logically upon what he’s being presented with.

Edward, is very much alive.

_Edward is alive._

He closes his eyes, repeating the vomit inducing sentence in his head over and over-

“Harry please talk to me,” Louis was desperate, pulling his wrist.

“Gentlemen I must insist you leav- _oh my word_ , what happened to your hand?”

The driver could see it all now, inclusive of a flustered Louis and blood blotched paper tissues. Harry peeled his lids open, heavy and sore, to deliver a glare that could slice through bone. “I gave you fifty, you wait.”

No more incentive was needed for the driver to face forward and remain mute.

“Louis I need you to trust me and believe everything I say without question or doubt. Can you do that?” As if his hand wasn’t slashed he took Louis’ and held them, sitting forward in his seat to peer across Louis’ side at the gaggle of paps, the Maitre’D outside now, waiting for them to alight.

“I-,”

“ _Can you do that?_ ” His features were sharp. Handsome. A dangerous combination to ignorance.

“Yes.”

“Edward is alive.”

For a solid half hour, since the conversation in their suite, Louis had toyed with the possibility that Harry may have touched on a point up there, that he may be actually losing the plot. And by losing the plot, he means hallucinating.

Turns out Harry’s been pulling at the sanity thread instead.

“You can’t be-,”

“What did I just ask of you?”

And just like that, Louis shut up.

Looking again to the paps, all of them appearing a little frustrated, Harry sighed.

Edward was alive and he was playing with them.

That was all the information he had and it was slowly killing him. He definitely didn’t know how, didn’t know any of the why’s, when’s or where’s but the reality was Edward does. Because Edward knew they were in London. Edward knew they were at that hotel. Edward knew that _Harry_ wasn’t just Harry and there was a little Louis with him too. Edward knew about Louis. Edward, fucking knew he’d have a car waiting and Edward would’ve taken that fucking car and rode to the fucking restaurant with Damien and Edward, would most likely be sat in their fucking seats right now.

“Okay.” Louis left it, took a shot at working with him instead. He trusted him. He did. “Why are the paparazzi here for you?”

Ah.

And that. They weren’t exactly headlining news; the Styles family were no celebrity but as far as their society goes, they’re at the top of their game and they’re a big deal. Everyone knows who the Styles family are, and everybody knows their packs. They’re wealthy, powerful and ruthless in their rein and Harry’s parents have a lot of investments. So when they’re spotted out, it causes a scene. Harry’s the heir to this empire his ancestors had grown and therefore, stepping out in London, his home, where he hasn’t been seen for over five years is definitely going to be attracting attention.

Edward would know this too.

He would’ve sent the signal. Made a call; an anonymous tip off to the right person and the word would spread like wild fire. The paps were scattered like ants around these streets - a network. All it takes is one message and they’re there.

 _Styles and mystery date, The Ivy, 10 minutes_.

“Edward.”

It’s all he said. But it wasn’t enough, Louis repeating, “Edward?”

“He called it in.” Harry sat back, feeling light headed. He needed to eat. “He’s in there too. Run us to Leicester Square.”

“No- hey _no_ ,” Louis stopped the driver before he punched into first gear.

Harry was a sudden daunting presence at his side and Louis almost didn’t want to look, afraid all his nightmares would come alive in those eyes if he did.

He flinched, “I’m sorry, Harry,” He could actually _feel_ his breath, “please don’t be mad, I am listening and I do trust you I just- if that’s true, and he is in there,” Louis really wasn’t going to get into this in the back of a fucking taxi, “do you think running away is the best option?”

He still didn’t dare look, choosing a seam of thread in the leather seat to stare at, Harry a blurred but stocky fixed point in his peripherals as he waited for his response.

“You think it wise,” That voice again, Louis actually whimpered at a fucking voice, “little one, to indulge in my supposedly dead twin’s mind games and walk right into his trap?”

God his timbre was formidable, he’d leant in close to Louis and he could cry. He felt like a child and he wanted to go home. Right there. He wanted out.

“I’m sorry.”

“You have no idea what you’re dealing with.”

Louis closed his eyes, “Neither do you.”

The leather squeaked, a hefty weight moving on it, a deep voice a little more distant than before. “I beg your pardon?”

He’d said it. No way back. Only forth.

He took a deep breath, mentally mapping where he’d put those shards of glass if he needed a weapon in some measly attempt at self defence. “All due respect but you don’t know what’s going on either. You’re about as much in the loop as I am. I think he will be expecting you to freak out and avoid this at all costs.” It was his boyfriend. Harry was his boyfriend who loved him dearly and when he turned to face the beast staring back, eyes locked heavy onto his he found himself mentally repeating that. “I- I say, we go in.”

 

*

 

“Hey look,” Louis leant across the table, a little north of gooey from the two glasses of champagne Harry had allowed, “look at this.”

The lighting was mostly to blame. Not the alcohol. It was dim and basement like - like the gallery. Harry had reserved a booth for them at the back end of the restaurant, all suede and leather and private, just for them. A bottle of champagne stood in ice in a vintage silver bucket at the end of the table. Mix that with a few of it’s bubbles, exquisite food and good company and your senses don’t stand a chance.

“What’s that?” Harry peered at him through lowered lids, lounged back in his seat with one arm on the table, fingers lightly pinching the stem of his wine glass.

Louis giggled, shuffled forward in his seat, “We made it through all those courses, _all of them_ , without trouble.”

Harry continued to stare, lazy and content. Perhaps too relaxed given the situation.

At last, he hummed with a twitch across his lips, amused. “You were right. Face the devil head on.”

He placed his hand over Harry’s around his glass, removing it softly so he could hold it. He was careful around the bandage but Harry had better ideas, summoning him around the end of the booth to his side of the table, Louis following without question as he came to sit next to him, felling warm and wonderfully rich.

Harry pulled a slim thigh atop his own, so Louis’ leg dangled between. So he could grip the middle of it, fingers digging into the inner flesh that was the most sensitive and make him squirm. So he could grip _something_. “Still can’t relax, baby.”

Louis contained his gasp, eyelashes fluttering at the confusing mix of pleasure and oversensitivity. “Harry?”

Swallowing the last of his red wine, Harry pushed his glass further onto the table and pulled Louis further into his lap. He may as well just sit on him. “Yes sweet.”

Neither of them had eaten much, both picking at the offerings, far too highly strung on the events so far. It was only the alcohol that had them loosening the tiniest bit, why Louis' mouth was salivating at the thought of dessert. 

“After everything you’ve told me I really don’t think he’s here to hurt you.” Louis shook his head, looking at the rigid line of Harry’s jaw as he peered out at the expanse of the restaurant. Scanning. Again. “Why would he want to hurt you? You’ve done nothing wrong.”

“Then why has he not made himself known in a formal fashion?”

One sentence and Louis was cut dead. But Harry lifted his hand to his mouth to ensure he wasn’t coming across brutish, kissing it and playing with the slender digits. “Just because we are blood does not mean there is any connection beyond that. Not on a human level.”

He just wanted to know _how._

There was no other conversation to be had this evening other than Edward yet it revolved very much about their childhood, their early days together and his unfortunate death that he was still lying to him about. Because what more was there? Despite what they know now, this was all there was to know before.

There wasn’t much else to expand on because that was it, he was supposed to be dead. Harry was there at his death, he was there when his Mother walked in on them a second too late and Harry has struck a blow one too far and heavy and he blacked out. There was blood and tears and he was taken to hospital and he was there through it all. His Mother crying his Father dragging him from the emergency room by his collar when the staff tried their best to save a life.

He was there, when his parents walked out into the corridor and his Mother collapsed from the pain, the reality of her child’s death crippling her.

The hiss brought him back into the room, immediately removing his grip from Louis’ thigh and apologising, again.

“Sorry,” He rubbed his hand over the assault, “sorry.”

A few intimate moments had mulled by until their desserts were brought to the table and Louis pulled back from his neck, unwinding his thigh so he could sit forward and snoop out the deliciousness presented to him. Impressed, he listened intently as the waiter reeled off the ingredients and extravagance that was before him, eyes wide and happy when he poured some hot chocolate liqueur over a hollow truffle ball for it to open like a lily.

“Oh wow,” Louis thanked the waiter and looked to Harry for permission to tuck in, the Alpha sat back and smiled, content with watching.

He enjoyed Louis’ sweet tooth. Thought it were quite fitting. On a sappier note it made them possibly fit together even more; Harry favoured savoury over sweet and Louis vice versa.

“You not going to?” Louis spoke adorably around a mouthful of raspberry tart, tucking his fork into another slice and holding it up for him.

He declined, insisting Louis devoured it all.

Whether he stole a small macaroon from the bamboo tray was nobody’s business really.

When Louis sat back it was with a mighty huff and a rounder belly and all of Harry’s instincts wanted to bundle him up, wrap him and take him home. Not to the hotel, but _home_. He wanted them both on a flight out of here yesterday and nestled in-between the sheets, secure and warm and safe in his arms where it were just them.

Fuck he deserved the full story. He can't lie to him anymore. 

“Louis, there’s something I need to tell you.”

There it was. That feeling in the pit of his stomach again, resurrecting with the feeling of dread. Louis watched as the waiter sashayed to the booth next to them with a tray full of fresh cocktails and bottles. The expense of it, the elite feel had him casting way back to Christmas eve when he were sat in the Style’s annual party, when he was nervous and Harry deprived and sick to the stomach at the story that idiotic drunk lady was spilling about Harry’s _brother_.

_‘He’s got one hell of a temper that’s all I’m saying,’_

Then his heart grew erratic and Harry looked at him, “What’s wrong?”

Oh how his mind cleared so painfully.

He couldn’t remember details of the bar but now it’d been spat in his face. Harry - _Edward_ , he said something about his temper. Louis said he’d only talk if he’d calmed down and then _Edward_ admitted his temper was a bitch. He didn’t think anything of it at the time because why would he? But now. Oh God now.

“Yeah?”

He couldn’t hide it, looking up to Harry and sitting back so there were a couple of inches between them. Harry didn’t like that at all. He frowned, skeptical and overly aware of everything that Louis wished he could merge into the plush seating so he didn’t have to face it. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing you were saying,” He didn’t know how he was talking with a mouth so bone dry, asking the waiter that’d just appeared for some more still water. “What is it?”

Harry ignored the other waiter who was collecting their finished plates - or Louis’ - and kept Louis in his sight.

“I’ve been lying to you.” He spoke quietly, aware enough to keep his voice down because of the waiters but caring not enough to be bashful about anything as he seized Louis’ thigh, just above his knee and squeezed, “Just, don’t be scared.”

The waiter had disappeared but Louis’ anxiety hadn’t. Nor had Harry’s hard hold. Or his glare or the suffocation that was clouding, chanting something, warning and hot and stuffy.

“Yeah,” He nodded, “promise.”

He was pretty sure Harry saw right through him.

“I have,” Harry had taken a deep breath, exhaling, “an issue.”

Louis was quiet, for the first time Harry wouldn’t mind if he interrupted and yet now he was all compliant and quiet.

He continued, talking with the hand that wasn’t a deathly grip above Louis’ joint, “My temper, it gets away from me sometimes. It’s a problem.” This wasn’t easy for him to talk about and it was evident and Louis would be there all there for him if it weren’t for the waiter approaching the table with a full tray again. “It’s genetic, none of us know why but I sort of black out when I get to a certain point and it’s difficult to…”

But now he saw the waiter too. Or his hand, depositing two drinks they hadn’t ordered before them.

Before the waiter explained, Harry’s eyes shot to the restaurant, looking, scenting, anything.

“Your water, sir.” His eyes were darting, his skull pulsating with his heart beat as he searched for that one familiar face, “And compliments of a young man at the bar - one lemonade for you sir, and Mr Styles, whiskey with a twist.”

Then he saw him.

And it was like his past and present collided. Just beyond the ivory branches reaching up and around the gold plated bar pillars there was movement. Tall, dark haired and dressed all in _black_. A corner seat, hidden and obscured from most, perfect. He was up and standing, staring right back at Harry as he did just the same.

“Stay here.”

He heard his name, _Harry_ , rushed and desperate, a sob. But he moved, forward and past the waiter - _sir?_ He was like a carnivore hunting, locked onto his prey, striding long and fast as he pushed past smartly dressed civilians, quiet with controlled laughter, classical music floating through the tranquil semblance.

He tore past the front tables and around the far side of the bar, watching broad shoulders disappear through the curtains just seconds before he did the same, the outside door having not even closed by the time he reached it. Open palmed he shoved it hard, didn’t even consider the people stood directly outside the entrance, the paps spluttering at the arrival of Harry tearing out of the front entrance without warning, dropping their sandwiches and grappling their cameras.

But it was just him.

Why hadn’t they seen Edward? Why didn’t they think that was him, why had they only stirred now-

“ _Mr Styles!_ ”

He stood at the lip of the curb, looking down the street both ways, the cobbled paths filled with couples and groups, old and young, wrapped up and full of alcohol on this dark, late winter evening. Happy and unaware of how wrong this all was. How could they be so happy?

The lights were blinding him, flashing and snapping and he tried to look this way and that, but it didn’t matter, they were always there. A lens, a click and a fucking question.

It was a reflex, when he took a hold of one of the lenses, yanked it forward along with the guy who had the strap around his neck and bared his teeth right in his face, “Take your clique and get these fucking things away from me.”

He turned the strap, the man cursing him and pushing away until he couldn’t and the strap around his neck was too tight for him to breathe and he choked, gripping the material burning into his skin as Harry continued to pull, unforgiving, “What did I say?”

All the cameras dropped as the Maitre’D and other staff came pouring out, the doormen there too, all a wild blur of action and noise as Harry was ripped away from it and people paused, strangers stopping amidst their evening business to stop and stare at the commotion.

The paparazzi were being told to leave but Harry had already lost interest, ignoring the valet who asked if he need a car and walked out into the middle of the road, straining all of his senses to pick up on anything that could help him.

But nothing.

He’d be long gone by now.

“I don’t know- _I’m sorry I really_ ,” His senses picked up on something far more crucial than his undead sibling and his eyes narrowed towards the sweet sound, charging straight back up to the hoard of people on the pavement surrounding him, questioning him.

“ _Move._ ” Harry’s voice rose above the pitiful sounds and what remained of the paps parted, knew better than to raise a camera. He had an armful of Louis straight away, "Hey baby."

“Harry we need to go,” Louis attached himself to his front and Harry welcomed it, pulling him close and realising how he were much bulkier than before. Looking down and trying not to smile when he saw he was wearing his coat, his hands drowning in the sleeves, “we need to leave, we can't stay we _can't._ ”

“I know, I know,” Harry cooed him, squeezed him tight and took his hand, nodding to the Maitre’D and shooting him a quick apology, saying he’d be in touch before opening up the door to a Mercedes that he spotted earlier, “go on get in.”

Harry was eager to climb in the other side but a waiter came out running - their waiter, calling out his name so loudly that the whole street practically stopped again and before he could get a grip on the handle a phone was being thrust before him and through an out of breath explanation of how his companion had left it in the booth the car’s engine rumbled up a hearty roar.

“Thank you, thank you,” Harry nodded and went to walk back to the car but it was moving, “hey… _hey!_ ” And it kept moving, slowly then curling out into the one way traffic and off down the street too fast for any legs to keep up.

Harry called after the vehicle, lungs maxed out at the effort when it hit him all at once, standing in the middle of the road, cars tailing back and beeping behind him he stared down at Louis’ phone in his hand and felt the absence of his own in his coat pocket.

 

*

 

If it were a cheaper vehicle Louis would be flying around in the back seat without his belt in tact, but thank mercy for German engineering, even with the drivers erratic nature, hitting the pedal and roaring down the narrow streets and taking corners at top speeds, gravity pulled gently on his frame.

“Are you even listening to me?” Louis was still trying to shoulder out of Harry’s coat, the absurd length getting tangled behind his knees, around his torso, “Hey!”

He nearly smacked his face on the back of the chair that time though, the semi transparent panel between the front and back would’ve been even less forgiving if he were a little more to the centre so, silver linings. Throwing the coat to the far side of the seats he shuffled forward and rapped his knuckles on the glass, trying to feel for the little ridge to pull it back, “Hey excuse me,” He found it, “Can you stop?!”

The car was turning, he could see the streets bending with them outside and he didn’t recognise anything and he was so furious that this seemingly deaf idiot was ignoring his pleas.

He’d left Harry back there and he’s going to be so mad but probably more worried that he were out here on his own with Edward so close by. He couldn’t shake the thought that Edward was going to pounce, maybe seek out his revenge now Louis was away and he groaned, tilting his head back and wishing he hadn’t bothered with the champagne _or_ three desserts because his stomach was suddenly violently uneasy.

Louis angled his head to get a good look at the driver, but the car took a turn so hard he actually did fall.

He was all tangled legs and arms and utterances of frustration that when he heard a police siren go off he prayed to what deity was listening the it were for them. For those two red lights they just ran.

“I’m going to take your plate, I know I’m not- not British but,” Louis struggled to get up at first, slammed the screen right across once he was and looked straight at the profile of the driver, huffing, “I can still get your licence…”

His voice dried up along with every drop of blood in his veins when he saw a familiar outline, the sharp jaw, the sky high cheekbones, the soft pout of relaxed lips and the continuous long line of his nose. He knew that profile so well he didn’t need him to turn to know he were frowning.

He breathed his name and the hand gripping the wheel tightened, he saw it and heard it, the leather creaking underneath.

His back hit the seat but he didn’t feel it, felt like he were floating more than anything, “Edward…” He whispered his name to himself, weak to the confines of the back seats and his dwindling sanity, “Edward.”

A blink later and they were pulling into a street he did recognise - Berners. Their hotel.

“ _Edward_.”

He’d lost the capacity to say anything else, eyes trained between the bulbs lighting up the foyer of the five star establishment and the strong, ringless, hands steering the car into the valet. The engine ceased and the doorman was coming up close.

What the fuck was he going to do? How was he going to do it? He was there and Harry was all the way back there and Edward. He’s alive and he’s unbuckled and coming to his side of the door faster than the doorman and he hopes his heart doesn’t give up on him now the door is being opened, calmly and he’s there in his face, bending and reaching for Harry’s coat.

“You cause a scene, I’ll give my Brother a reason to kill.” His voice was exactly like his, _exactly_ \- “Now move.”

They were out of the car and Edward pulled on the coat efficiently, tossing the valet his keys saying to park it under Tate West, wherever that was and Louis could heave at the hand on his back as they were seamless in their reentry to the hotel, gliding through the front doors after a, “Welcome back sir,” and a curt greeting from the receptionist - a different lady than before.

Once inside the elevator - alone, sod’s law - Edward waited until the silver doors closed and sighed, fisting the coat pockets until he found what he were looking for, the room key. Both of them.

“Grande Suite,” Edward purred, almost smiling even if it were bitter, “of course.”

He was ignoring Louis and the boy didn’t know whether to be thankful or not. He couldn’t back more into the corner if he tried, that corner being his only salvation in this crucifying moment; the living breathing replica of his boyfriend stood there living and breathing and _calm._

He tapped the key card into his open palm and hung his head back, closing his eyes when the elevator ‘bing’ed and the doors opened to reveal their floor.

Edward wasn’t watching if he followed or not, stepping out and navigating the long halls right to the back where their suite was situated. Of course Louis followed, he dared not do anything else. A flash of opportunity to close the doors and head straight back down to lobby presented itself but nerves stopped him - a ridiculous trail of thought stopped him and followed him and he followed Edward.

He got down to the lobby and said what? Did what? Explained there was an intruder? They look back on the cameras and see someone who looks like Harry, dressed like Harry yet Louis insists isn’t Harry and they do what? Laugh at him? Humour him as they can smell the alcohol on his breath and fetch a glass of water? All the while giving Edward a clean cut path to follow him and collect him again, take him back upstairs and for his disobedience dislocate every bone in his hands?

“Well I must say,” They were inside the room. How did they get here so quick. “Harry’s done a fine job.”

Now Louis was in, he stepped back. Back again and kept walking backwards as Edward dropped the key cards into the dish and took leisurely steps forward. His bum hit the back of the couch and he gasped, gripping it.

“You didn’t make a peep.” Edward’s mouth was upturned, looking lazily impressed as he shook off the coat - Harry’s coat and hung it nicely on the hook. “Well trained for a human.”

“Edward.”

Edward’s eyes were worse than his though, more acidic. “Did I say speak?”

Louis had witnessed power and he’d witnessed fear combined, but now there were two of them. “I- I’m-,”

He stopped himself before Edward could, levelling the poor boy with a singular look.

He was tall like Harry, obviously. Had that offish brutality about the way he moved, full of ease but careless at the same time, like he owned everything in every room his presence drew. Arrogance, perhaps. His voice was scratched too, deep and throaty. Even his hair, now being tucked behind his ear at one side, curls falling just past his jaw as he inspected the little trinkets and pamphlets on the long table. His hands were the same, long fingers, nimble but thick, the strength that resides in those hands clear despite oddly slender wrists.

He moved silently, familiarising himself with the space provided. Louis was left to watch in the same silence, hoping not to take a breath out of line.

Now in the good light of the room he could see his shirt wasn’t actually fully black, but a deep burgundy plum with a swirling black paisley pattern embossed into it. They definitely shared the same eccentric sense of fashion, even if there was something more rustic and ornate about Edward. There was something about him which Harry lacked. Maybe it was because he didn’t know him, or anything about him beyond what he’d been told briefly by Harry, but there was a sense of collectiveness about Edward that was hair raising and dwelling. You get the feeling that once he’s out of your vision he’s still watching you, no matter if he paid you no mind beforehand, it feels like his eyes are always on you and he doesn’t miss a beat.

“S’nice, this.” He spoke and Louis had to grip the sofa again to smooth over his jump.

He waited quietly for him to continue. Looking at the painfully slow wandering Alpha, coming to an eventual stop at the tall window.

“Haven’t been in a hotel for a long time.” He pulled back the long drape and peered through the lace netting at the hustle on the street below. “Even though I have twenty three rooms to explore the house gets boring after five years.”

Remaining quiet, Louis listened, sort of wanted him to carry on so he could grasp some of this nightmare for himself. If he could pick out some pieces and put them together even a little bit it was the least he could do for when he’s reunited with Harry.

Harry.

The phone is ringing. That’s what the buzzing was, the dull sound that hasn’t stopped since they got in that they’ve both been ignoring pointedly.

Louis looked to Harry’s coat.

“Don’t even think about it.” Edward’s voice tore through the air like a lasso, whipping Louis’ attention right back where he needed it.

He stood imposing at the window, the drape swaying behind him from where he’d let it go and made sure Louis didn’t move before he did, one foot after the other, boots jet black and heavy as they walked through the seating area, past the fire and up to the back of the couch where Louis cowered.

“What was he like?”

That was a question.

Louis cleared his throat, swallowed. “Excuse me?”

He got a mighty back hand to his face and he nearly fell over from the impact if it weren’t for Edward catching him at the scruff and pulling him to a stand. “He taught you well but clearly not thoroughly.”

His cheek burned with the sting and he flexed his jaw to check it still worked.

“Let’s try that again. What was he like?”

Lost, Louis had no idea what to say or do. Had no idea where he went wrong the first time. It was painful not only physically, but to look at someone who is literally the mirror image of the person he loves to be staring at him like that after assaulting him so swiftly. “I-I’m sorry, but I don’t know what… you…”

Louis leant back as Edward got unbearably close. He smelt incredible, annoyingly, but his breath was tinged with something smokey.

“You’re cute, but weak.”

Louis frowned. Kicked himself for showing such an emotion so blatantly in front of him like that, but when Edward pulled back and clucked his tongue, he figured he got away with it. “You address me with respect, nothing less, understood?”

“Y-yes,” Louis' mind scrambled, “Alpha.”

"Good."

Of course. He nodded meekly and Edward raised his chin. “In -in what way, Alpha?”

Edward frowned further, lips popping as they do on Harry. Something Louis would adore. “As in his sexual adequacy what do you think?”

He shook his head, ran a hand through his hair and walked past Louis, “Did he say anything about me, to you.”

Barely anything yet enough for a full enough picture. Some things even went unsaid yet it was still palpable, Edward’s memory alive in the guilt-soaked words to fall past Harry’s lips and hidden, woven into the ones that didn’t.

“Yes Alpha.”

“And he had no idea?”

“That you were alive?” Louis forgot, braced for the worse.

But Edward wasn’t facing him, looking into the bedroom across the way, when he spoke soft, “Yes Louis.”

It felt weird for him to say his name as if it were commonplace practise. “N-no, Edward no of course-,” The thought was absurd, why would Harry carry so much guilt around like that, how could someone fake something so ghastly? “He misses you so much you have no idea. How could he ever have known?”

Edward hung his head, his shoulders looking formidable from the angle. He was quiet for a moment and in that moment, for just a second, a twist came that Louis least expected. For a fleeting breath, shaken and broken he almost felt sorry for him, almost siding with his kidnapper and got the most bizarre urge to encase his hand, afraid he hadn’t had such a token of intimacy in far too long.

But then the moment got shredded with the roll of those same shoulders, muscles crunching and his neck turning, something cracking there too as he stood up straight, “Excellent.”

Suddenly he felt very aware that he was terribly alone and mortally human.

“However that is the second time you’ve addressed me incorrectly.” Louis got quick, nasty flashbacks to Christmas Day as Edward walked over to his position, rolling his wrist which clicked. “You’re an insufferable little shit aren’t you?”

“No- Alpha I’m sorry I’m not used to - _no please_ ,” He struggled against Edward's hand, taking up his throat in one swoop as he splutters.

“You’re not used to dealing with a real Alpha, cutie,” He teased, voice like liquor, eyes like fire, “You don’t know what respect is. As for my Brother, nor does he.”

He watched Louis struggle within his grasp and it fed something inside, squeezing his fingers a little tighter, feeling his saliva gulp harder beneath his skin, hearing his heart work that bit more to pump the blood to his head. When he saw the purple marking on the side of his neck he moved his thumb.

Louis heaved for air, the movement giving room for oxygen.

Edward let no emotion through, said nothing, did nothing, replaced his thumb back over the mark and tightened his grip and Louis hiccuped, _writhing._

“Neither of you know what pain or consequence is.” He lifted Louis up with frightful strength, used his jaw as a hook and kept him hanging there, feet kicking, face reddening. “You will learn.”


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big thanks to all for the feedback, it helps when I know what you're thinking, it's definitely helped me decide on a direction. Also you guys never fail to flatter me so thank you so much for that too. 
> 
> This is drawn out I know but I wanted their reaccqeuaintence to be detailed because it's important so hang tight.

Little black specks were floating in his vision. He didn’t know if he passed out for a second but he was still on the floor so it was only for a short breath if he did. Rolling onto his back he was almost certain his wrist shouldn’t feel like that and there was a wetness on his face, something damp on his hairline.

But there was no time to think about it, staring at what was once the embossed ceiling now a looming Edward, dark curls and hollow eyes.

His hearing had thinned to a flatlining beep so he couldn’t hear him very well, but saw him clearly, _felt_ him as he pulled him up so he was sat up right against the back of the couch, Louis scraping the carpet to convey his pain - something didn’t feel right in his hip. He was pretty sure he was screaming but couldn’t hear it.

Edward was clear, but those spots were marring his vision. He was fucked. He felt something hot and wet trickle onto his top lip and knew what that meant. His heart was racing a hundred mile an hour and by the look on Edward’s face he expected nothing less.

A hand was at his jaw, turning his head almost to admire his work.

“You think my Brother cared about me, Louis?”

Louis couldn’t hear him, it sounded like he were underwater and he shook his head, gulping. He tried motioning to his ears but Edward just nodded, saying he were right and Louis heard _that_ , dropping his hand but very aware Edward’s was still on his jaw.

“I don’t know what version he’s seduced you with, but I can assure you it’s far from the truth.” He repositioned his crouched legs, too long and too close to Louis, hovering over him like he could break him with one hand. He tilted his head and narrowed his eyes. Undeviatingly sinister. “He doesn’t care about anybody but himself. Didn’t back then, most certainly doesn’t now.”

Fearing pain and praying for unconsciousness, he dared to fight back for what it was worth, lips trembling, unable to contain his fear, “…. _y-_ ,” He huffed through his nose, willing himself to stop shaking so obviously while Edward’s hand still held his face, “ _You’re wrong._ ”

Edward stayed put, physically. But his gaze drifted as it pleased, lingered on his lips and down to his throat. One quick swoop down his small frame and back in time for Louis’ sweet voice again.

“You’re _wrong_ , Alpha.”

Edward hummed, tipped his chin. His hand dropped from his jaw, fingers trailing over his throat and over the claim laid clear by Harry on his skin. Louis closed his eyes, heart exhausted at the memory of last night when he did the exact same thing.

“Is that so?” He was searching, toying with Louis knowing he can’t do a thing about it. He took his time when inspecting the mark and wasn’t coy about testing it’s soreness, enjoying the small hum he got when he pressed two fingers. “Then tell me why he is endangering the life of the person he supposedly loves so dearly.”

Louis wished for his hearing to be stolen again, Edward’s hostile gaze meeting him once more, “Tell me.”

How did he know so much? How did he know who he was and what was going on. How.

Such questions were to remain unanswered for now however as Louis were being heaved around his middle and his hip made him cry out.

Louis screeched, clawing at the forearm solid as a steel band around his stomach. He begged for him to put him down, it felt like if he didn’t his ribs would disconnect or his heart would get lodged in his throat - but there was no talking to this boy. He was beyond reason. Hardened by isolation, bitter from his dealing. It soon dawned that it didn’t matter to him whether Louis were bleeding from the inside out or had his arm hanging from his socket he was going to do with him as he pleased regardless.

“ _Please_ -,” Yet still Louis sobbed, pushing against that arm, being part dragged - part carried through to the bedroom.

Which no.

No, no, no-

“Would you please shut the fuck up? The walls aren’t that thick and my head is starting to pound.”

Louis wriggled, pretty sure he just cracked his own rib in the effort but he was torturously insistent on not getting anywhere near that bed, using all the will he had to lift his lean middle section up and kick the part of Edward that he could - turned out to be his knee - and slip free when his arm loosened from the blow.

Edward hissed, leg buckling.

He was more mad at himself for losing focus long enough to let it happen. From the sheer size of Louis and him it was embarrassing that he’d let himself be defeated in any sense by some slender collection of bones. But he got distracted. By the bed.

“Adorable.” Edward straightened himself out and was behind Louis in a shot, snapping his hand behind his back from reaching up for the telephone on the table. “Your spirit is more tenacious than your body.”

Louis’ short, sweet cries of pain were his favourite.

“Come on now,” He grabbed his slim wrists and dragged him, “let’s not make this anymore difficult than it has to be.”

The carpet burn was minor compared to everything else.

He was being dragged away though, far away from the bed, across the border of the room and into another - the bathroom. The tiles in there were no better, the exposed expanse of skin on his stomach and sides taking a thorough beating.

Hands, too big and too rough were off him and he was smacked onto the floor, body limp and barely adjusted when they were on him again - shoving his torso down when he tried to sit. “Stay down cutie.”

“I -,” He regretted making a sound immediately, watching Edward turn the taps in the tub. Nothing could get worse than this. “I don’t know why you’re…” He hated how he sounded, panting with sobs clogging up his speech, tears and blood smeared across his cheeks, “- please we can _talk_. We can sort it out- whatever it is we can-,”

Edward laughed, grabbed a towel from the rack and turned his neck again, the crack sounding sickly. Louis waited. For punishment or more. But nothing came and he tried again.

“Please, don’t do this.”

He didn’t know what exactly _this_ was he were doing but his common sense took a good guess and he doubted Edward wished to bathe him in a bubble bath.

“Edward.”

He was so innocent. Caught amidst a battle of blood he’d served no part in. He didn’t know anything about this family up until five months ago and now he’s probably going to die because of them, because of something that he still has no clue about.

Edward had perched on the edge of the tub, watching it fill up. He looked calm. Hadn’t looked much else all along but he was at ease and it unnerved Louis because it was wrong. It was all wrong. He can’t die like this, he needed to know why. He needed to know what was going on behind those green eyes.

Louis waited and waited, but Edward just kept watching, trailing a hand in the deepening water - warm probably, because there were no goosebumps when he touched it.

“You know what abandonment feels like, Louis?”

Oh God.

“No Alpha.” He’d rather speak fast, than leave room for misconstrued disrespect.

Edward lifted a cupped hand from the tub. He looked at it like he looked at pretty much everything else - blank, parted his fingers and let the waiter drain through the gaps.

“Feels like drowning.”

“I’ll scream,” Louis hated himself and Edward looked up, still black, still stoic but he looked up, direct and flush with his eyes, “I can scream loud. I- someone they’ll hear and they’ll come-,”

“You do that, I’ll kill you.”

Louis groaned, desperately trying to push himself up further on the cold tiles. “ _Fuck_ ,” He spluttered, hands slipping all over, “I’m dead already if I don’t!”

Edward was watching him with practised precision, watching him struggle to sit up right, something that should be easy. He sat and thought about all the ways he wished to punish his Brother and this seemed the sure way to go. What else was going to bring him down in ashes? What else was going to make him feel even a fragment of torture he’d endured for these years? He could have his slice of fun and play with Louis, maybe. He ticked his head to the side as Louis slipped and whined when his wrist bent wrong. He could lock the doors, barricade them even, just to be sure and pin him down and sheath his desires deep inside his fragile little body. He could have him pinned and crying, struggling, in pain. He’d know what screaming was then.

But no. It wasn’t Louis who he had the scorn with it was his Brother. He wanted to teach him a lesson and this is something he has to do - his Father always taught them to not show off; don’t flaunt or flirt with victory, just take it. He was control and repose and Louis was fright and haste. Pain was something they shared but in different ways, different quantities and for very different reasons. He sighed as Louis shakily came to a good enough position to bend his legs and stand.

“Don’t give up do you?” Edward squinted, eyes trailing down Louis’ uncurling body, hands gripping the side of the tub.

Louis hissed, loudly, his hip pulling and his rib stabbing.

“Baffles me why my brother would go for someone who is so utterly incapable of submission.”

Edward was stood now and that meant end game before Louis even got to play. It wasn’t fair. He let go of the tub and staggered backwards, feet and legs wobbly but keeping him upright until he landed hard against the mirror.

He felt like a toy - Edward’s play thing. Even though he doesn’t crack a smile he knows he’s enjoying every minute of it.

“You can’t - no,” Louis swatted his hand away and now he smiles, now he grins a little and fuck off, “please, stop this. Talk to me, just,” His grin was just as charming, just as handsome, “I can help.”

Then the smile fell, and his teeth slowly disappear, the dimple levelled out and so did those eyes.

He gulped and Louis saw it. Emotion. Regret, loss. Dysphoria. “I doubt that.”

There was a loud bang somewhere behind and Louis’ heart jumped with Edward’s.

“ _Louis!_ ”

Never had he been so relieved to hear that voice in fury.

Edward turned and Louis’ body unwound. His muscles weren’t tensed and thus letting the pain - _all of it_ \- wash over him like a tide, finally allowing him to feel the all consuming excruciation at it’s worst now he was here, now he was safe.

His scent led him straight there.

And there was sure fire emotion in those eyes, the Alpha stood gripping the doorway to take a minute, a brief second of recognition. But brief it was, for he’d seen the blood stain spotted on the carpet, smelt the intoxicating fear laced with his own flesh and bones, his own DNA.

Harry pushed into the room and it almost shook, vibrating with the livid rage he felt. He ignored the tub, saw only Edward, scented _only_ Louis and his pain and fear and now he caught a glimpse of his face his fists were lost in the front of Edward’s shirt.

Louis turned away, crouching back down against the mirror, eyes screwed shut too afraid to watch. He heard a body collide with something. A dull crack, a groan and Harry’s roar. It was muffled then he was shouting, chords moving with his body as he slammed and shook.

Louis shook too. Quivering. Things were getting broken, bodies being dragged and beat and he folded into himself more, every corner pinching and vibrating with discomfort but he still couldn’t look. He cried helplessly into his palms, nose streaming. He could taste metal.

“Feel _big_ ,” Something else cracked and Louis felt sick, “brother? Do you feel big?”

Harry. That was Harry.

The water was still gushing. Silence fell for the longest two seconds and the sound of the bath tub filling up was the only one until something squeaked and then it overflowed, splashing onto the floor as a monstrous weight were dropped into it. Louis snapped up, sniffing. He mouthed silently as his body went cold to the scene he witnessed, “No…” He coughed, grew adamant, “ _Stop!_ ”

With both taps open it filled fast. Harry looked menacing, possessed as he held his Brother under the direct flow; blistering ice cold water straight onto his face as Edward thrashed, a hand secured around his throat a knee on his chest to dampen all his efforts.

Louis gargled around spit, swallowing, terrified he might swallow his own tongue in haste as he crawled towards them, “ _Harry!_ ” He couldn’t watch this, this would solve nothing, he can’t do this, they can’t do this, “ _Harry stop!_ ”

Peering back over his hunched shoulders he saw Louis closing in on him, wincing and panting and he grabbed his knee. He frowned at the slim digits spreading on his joint, looked up to the blood smeared on his jaw, drying on his neck and the rumble in his chest echoed through the room. His lips drawn back into a snarl as he refocused all his energy into pinning his Brother down.

Edward’s face was submerged under the water now and Harry still wasn’t letting go. There was blood but it was probably from Harry’s wound reopening.

“Harry listen to me!”

He clawed his knee, pulling himself forward, his legs slipping, “Stop- stop this, _you’re going to kill him!_ ”

A clearance came through the cloud encasing Harry and he blinked.

He blinked again, looking at the distorted mirror image of himself. He heard Louis’ plea again and the rage begun to lift. He peered down and what he was doing became real. Five years ago it was real and five years ago his heart was broken and here they are again and his heart is still broken and Edward is still very real.

Louis was begging to his side, his small hands pulling at his shirt and he was right. This was his second chance.

He lifted his knee and manoeuvred his weight from Edward, letting him sit up and heave for air.

Louis was sobbing against the side of the tub, arms hanging over the side in utter exhaustion. He’d never felt a relief so strong. Not even when Harry forgave him. He lay, eyes closed, forehead resting against the slippery lip and breathed. The taps squeaked as they were shut off, a pipe echoing in the floorboards below.

He was aware the laboured breath he could hear didn’t belong to him.

There was movement and Louis pulled his head up, neck aching and realised he were inches away from Edward. But he wasn’t looking at him anymore, uninterested. He was breathing deep, shirt soaked and sticking to every muscle while he focused on the person stood up ahead.

The name slipped past his lips so feathery soft and light he wasn’t even sure he’d said it until the boy looked at him. “Edward.”

It surprised him. Surprised all of them, and green eyes tore into him for a second, licking his full wet lips. Was it a question or a statement? He didn’t care and didn’t give chance for a response either. Louis cleared his throat and backed away with the help of Harry who lifted him carefully to a stand and shushed him when he peeped.

“Come,” Harry was still home to the adrenaline and it made him curt, “move. It’s okay,” He just wanted him out of there. “That’s it.”

Guided gently by the carbon copy of hands that bid him harm moments ago they were back in the bedroom and Harry’s knees knocked the edge of the mattress as he arranged Louis on top. He was silent and his eyes were drawn wide, feral. It was clear his focus was split, torn in two.

Louis tried to talk to him and get him to calm down but Harry continued to fuss and shut him up immediately, told him to not move.

“He thinks you’re lying.” Louis tried so hard to get him to listen. “He thinks you don’t care.”

But Harry’s mind was one track. Edward had hurt Louis. Edward, his twin Brother, who he thought dead for all these years had come and tried to take away the best thing that’s happened to him since.

He didn’t respond just folded Louis’ trousers and pulled the cover up to his waist. He was plumping the pillows for Louis to be comfortable and it was so clinical Louis could throw up. “Are you listening to me?”

“Yes,” He snapped, looking at him with glowing eyes, “I always am.”

The front part of him was wet and the material clung to his abdominals as he moved, tending to his bleeding nose, looking to see if it were broken. He were mumbling something, rummaging around in the drawers and slamming them shut when he found nothing.

“Your ribs,” He was at another drawer, acting like it were just them and his undead Brother wasn’t in fact in the adjoining room, “where does it hurt?”

How did he know that?

“And your hip,” He came back with some cotton pads, poured some bottled water over them and got to cleaning him up, “we’ll cushion it.”

 

*

 

Twenty minutes passed and Louis was tucked into bed, laid up comfortable so he could rest as per Harry’s instruction. He begged for Harry to stay with him when Edward had emerged out of the bathroom dripping and darkened, but he digressed. He promised Louis he’d be back, said he needed to figure it out. He didn’t want to leave him alone like that but he didn’t want Edward any closer to Louis for longer than necessary.

At some point Edward had peeled his top off, drenched and sticking to his skin. Harry had thrown a t-shirt at him for him to change into and that’s as far as they got. They stood in silence in the kitchen, words felt too mushed, their heads needing room - particularly Harry’s, to process.

Most of it was Harry trying to level with himself and count the reasons to not lunge for him, all he could picture was the blood on the carpet, the fear in the air and the _pain_ Louis sat in. But he calmed himself, looked to his Brother.

His twin _Brother_. The person he and Gemma grew up with. The person who he shared his soul.

“Why did you stop?”

“Killing you is getting too easy.” Harry breathed, restraining himself to the spot knowing Louis was just next door.

Edward hung his head, eyes creasing with a small laugh.

It was equal match right here, the both of them stood at full height, a combined height. They were equals and they both knew it. Harry overpowered him earlier because he had the upper hand in rage - always has. But they weren’t stupid and ego’s had no room here. There was no time for dick measuring.

“I’m glad one us has a sense of humour over it.”

That pang in his chest annoyed Harry to the core. Watching Edward turn around and collect a glass from the shelf like he could, like nothing had happened, so domestic and Edward-like he wanted to cry. He gulped down every urge to touch him; to ask him why and hold him and maybe throttle him to the edge of death again whilst he still got to grips with the idea of him laying hands on Louis.

“I hate you.” Harry’s grumble made him pause, shoulders taught, turning the tap off but remaining forward. “For this, for what you’ve done today I can’t…” Harry trailed off and he never trails off. Edward was doing this to him. He’d turned to face him now, holding the glass between his long fingers.

“I don’t give a shit about him.”

“I do.” Harry snarled, vexed. “He means everything to me.”

“Always about you isn’t it.” He took a gulp, slowly at first, letting it rest to hold Harry’s stare before tipping the entire contents down his neck.

“Edward…”

“Five years later and you’re still the good guy.”

Fists clenching at his sides he fought to keep calm. Louis. “You have no idea, how much we’ve suffered.”

Edward scoffed but Harry stopped him, “No,” He stopped forward, Edward watching those fists unclench upon his approach, “no you listen. For five years my parents have mourned a Son, for five years Gemma has mourned a Brother and for five _fucking_ years I’ve had to live without my other half.”

His coldness stung, eyes unresponsive to any of it. But Harry pushed on. “Where the fuck have you been? How the fuck have you done this?”

He stared on.

Harry allowed him his moment, waited as patiently as someone could be expected to until his rage overflowed. Two flat palms against his chest, a blow that struck like a gun shot, “ _Answer me!_ ”

He was shaking and his eyes were glowing an amber that Edward finally reacted to, rubbing his chest gently and nodding. “There it is, there’s the Harry I know.”

Breath heavy, Harry clambered for that composure, demanding an explanation. “What are you talking about?”

“Come on Brother you wanted me dead.”

“ _You_ \- you think I wanted to go that far?”

“You saw your chance and took it.”

“Are you…” Speechless, Harry ran both hands through his hair, gripping the strands. He stared at him, gobsmacked. The sadness that had his heart swollen was pushing against his lungs so it were difficult to breathe, the disbelief, the _horror_ , startling his brain. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”

“This temper,” He beckoned to Harry’s length, closed in on him so they were nose to nose, “it’s almost an excuse.” Harry took a step back. “You took me down that day knowing you’d have the single rein - become the one and only heir. You’d be adored and cherished, admired. Everyone would talk about how _strong_ the young Alpha, Harry Styles is for going on, stepping up and taking leadership after the tragic loss of his twin Brother. Oh how _hard_ it must be for him.”

The scale had tipped, power shifting as Edward’s presence grew and manifested. “I was never in your plans, Brother. _Admit it,_ it’s okay.” Harry didn’t realise he still held the glass until he smashed it on the counter. “Come on Harry, we’re both adults now.”

He seized Edward’s wrist and twisted it, squeeing his tendons so hard to get him to drop the glass.

Managing to get an advantage he tugged his arm out to the side and threw a punch to his gut and the glass dropped, smashing on the floor. Harry sighed and let go but Edward caught his jaw, knuckles colliding in a horrendous blow and he fell to the side, no time to recover as another landed to his gut.

“Lies come so easily to you Brother,” He was in his ear, no growl, no timbre - just Edward. “You’ve always wanted this for yourself, by yourself. And well now, you’ll have it.”

He twisted the arm that grappled his and jammed him to the floor, throwing a well aimed kick to his ribs upon standing making a blunt sound. “Let’s see what you come up with to explain this death.”

Long legs stepped over his hurling body, spitting the blood from his tongue onto the wooden floor. “No,” It was scratched and pathetic, eyes bleary as he watched his Brother’s disappearing form, "no."

The sound he made was awful. It would bring a Mother to tears and a human to surrender in fright as the veins in his neck popped and he pulled himself to a stand, legs shaking. He stumbled, caught himself on the counter and gripped his stomach.

Pain he could deal with. But Edward was the biggest wound of them all. “Edward!”

He heard Louis’ muffled cry and he spat again, ridding more blood from his tongue before he charged through the double doors. Seeing the back of Edward shift as he yanked Louis to the edge of the bed was enough to get him steamrolling. It was like tectonic plates colliding when Harry seized him, Louis scrambling away as Harry pulled Edward.

“What’s _wrong_ with you?” Harry blustered, then clenched his teeth around a growl as he took a hit to his middle again as Edward thrust him into the pillar.

Louis couldn’t do a damn thing but watch. His brittle bones no match for this. He hadn’t been resting at all, when Edward declared what he did he was sitting at the edge of the bed, listening; listening to the whole thing even though it hurt to keep sat up.

“Listen to me- _no listen!_ ” Harry roared, he didn’t want to fight but Edward did and how the tables had turned. Harry was trying to soothe and Edward wanted flesh to tear. But they weren’t kids anymore, they were brawn and grown and people can die for real.

Edward swung for him again but Harry caught his fist and he floored him, kicking out his legs. He ducked down, straddling him, pinning his arms with his knees and growling from the _fucking_ pain, “Oh I really fucking hate you, I hate you,” Harry caught his arm that escaped, pinning it again, hissing at the pull, “you _dare_ touch him, you dare fucking do this, you come back from the dead - back into my life and expect me to be okay with all this with no explanation!”

He was distraught and Louis didn’t like it. Harry wasn’t supposed to get like this. He was scary.

Edward tried to speak but Harry backhanded him so hard his tongue went numb, his vision crossing.

“ _Silence!_ ” Harry gained a good enough cincture on his wrists, hips digging, his weight holding him there. He hung his head, the blood making his skull throb. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you if you just let me talk I can help you,” He looked to him, dizzy and wired and fed up, “because despite it all I fucking love you you cunt and that’s what you don’t seem to understand.”

Edward swallowed, blinking away the water and spit and tears, looking to his sibling above. He was emotionless.

“You’re my Brother and for you to say I wished you were dead all along,” He shook his head. He looked away and banged his and Edward’s fists on the ground, growling back when Edward did, “I love you so much. I have grieved you for all these years, _hated_ myself for what I’d done,” He finally had Edward quiet enough and he turned his head into his shoulder, wiping away the tears and blood, “the thought of a lifetime without you crippled me. Has done to this very day.”

Both Brothers were still, Harry unmoving and Edward unbothered about it. Their chests moved as one, gasping and tired.

“I don’t know why you think this of me,” Harry was about to let him go, always soft after the cloud of rage passed, but he thought better and remained put, “I don’t know why you want to hurt me or Louis but I want you to stop.”

Edward’s jaw tightened and Harry met it with a warning glare, teeth bared, “Don’t.”

“But-,”

“ _No_.” Harry ordered and did let go, falling back onto his haunches but not standing up. He groaned and palmed his rib. “Fucking arsehole.”

They knew they could continue this match until the new day dawned. Harry would protect Louis until his dying breath and by that time Edward would be so beat down he’d barely have a bone left unbroken or a muscle left intact to lift a finger to him. It was useless. Words were going to straighten this out. Not two Alpha’s with their inflated egos.

Edward mumbled something and Harry frowned, mishearing him.

“ _Off_.” He repeated, shoving Harry’s hips and siting up.

Harry obliged, a little stumble when he stood up straight and Louis was already crawling to the edge of the bed but Harry stopped him a palm out telling him to stay put.

Edward was next to stand and it felt a miscommunication had been breached. Nothing was ironed out and nothing was anywhere near better but Harry eyed him and Edward knew, they both did. An unspoken signal between the two that Louis wouldn’t ever know. They were both angels once. But both had fallen. And they needed to find out why.

“You stay here.”

“What?”

“ _What?_ ” Louis echoed, voice thrice as high.

Harry silenced them both, turning to a wide eyed Louis, “I lost him once, I’m not risking it again.”

Harry’s body thrummed with his Alpha. Its teeth weren’t bared and his claws were sheathed but that didn’t mean that low sound resonating from the centre of his chest was going to quieten anytime soon, his eyes were still wild, his hairs still raised.

“I’m not staying.”

“You don’t have a say in it.” He made sure Edward heard him, watching the Alpha until he knew no response was coming and turned fully to Louis. “Trust me.”

It was inappropriate to laugh in his face so he settled for staring in disbelief instead. “Harry…”

“He’s not coming anywhere near you, don’t worry.”

 _Don’t worry._ “But Harry-,”

“Do you trust me?”

Louis bit his lip, winced as he forgot how bruised his gums felt. Harry saw it. And this was going to be the biggest test to his character yet. He was balls deep in a battle between heart, mind and wolf. Here on one end was his Brother, his twin who he loved so much, who he had deemed dead. The other were his lover, his soulmate who he loved beyond any comprehension and wanted to protect and devour with every fibre of his being. So when he looked to the wince he made, the small hisses here and there, _felt_ the pain he bore and knew it was because of Edward, there had never been a soul more conclusively torn.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Edward purred and Harry’s back was up instantly, “I’m not going to be creeping into your bed in the middle of the night.”

He turned and encased Edward’s throat so fast even Edward didn’t see it coming.

Louis shuffled back on instinct. He took the bed sheet with him, looking at the muscle flexing in that long arm, that strong, _strong_ forearm, “What did you just say?”

Edward’s hand gripped his wrist, slapped his other over Harry’s taught hand and uncurled his fingers slowly. He stepped back and swallowed, rubbing his skin. “Please, your princess is petrified. I’m not staying.”

Harry’s order was final and he was so used to it being final with everyone else that it was weird that here stood Edward, quite literally his equal who was the one person despite their parents who could challenge him and he couldn’t rebuff it.

“And you’re confused as to why?” He stopped Edward at the door, “You think I’m going to let you walk out that door to never be found again?”

“Firstly,” Edward swiped Harry’s hand from his shirt, “I’m not bothered what your piece thinks of me. And secondly, I wasn’t found.”

Harry squared up, “Don’t speak of him like that.”

“I’ve already drawn blood from his pretty face, sticks and stones Brother?”

Harry backed him against the wall but a voice stopped him.

“- _Stay!_ ”

Both Alphas looked at each other. Confused as neither had moved their lips yet…

Louis was coiled up in the sheets, nothing visible but his dishevelled hair and feline eyes, roping both boys in to stop and stare. Even Edward.

“What?” And Edward, was the first to speak with Harry side eyeing him.

When Louis moved the sheet from his mouth so he could speak clearer he hesitated, maybe reconsidering his statement, but then: “Stay.” Turns out he meant it.

“Baby,” Harry breathed, was by Louis in seconds and cupping his face gently, “I’ll be here all night. If you want we can stay in here and we can talk but if you rest, I will be out in the lounge but I promise,” He found his hand and lifted it to his lips, making a little smile appear briefly, “I promise he goes nowhere alone.”

“I’d much prefer to use the bathroom by myself.”

Harry was losing his patience thick and fast. “Fuck your preferences Edward.”

Edward smirked and Louis caught it, thankful Harry hadn’t.

He knew Harry would rather set himself on fire than allow Edward within twenty feet of him unaccompanied and he knew he needed to talk to him. It actually gave him a headache thinking about the conversations they were going to have. He welcomed the touch to his cheek, closing his eyes as soft lips planted promises there again and again, telling him how much he loved him.

He needed the squeeze to his hands, the flurry of kisses and the sappiness from his Alpha now more than ever. He needed to know he were protected. In raw and total honesty if he could have entirely what he wanted Edward would be tied to a radiator with several steel handcuffs, gagged. And Harry could nurse him, hold him and they would talk in the morning. Maybe not even then. Maybe they kept him there until the end of their trip and only then, would Harry release him and get him to give him the answers he so deserves.

“Not that this isn’t heart warming…” Edward jibed and Harry grunted a harsh word, Louis giggling against his lips and wincing again.

“Let me just order some,” Harry spoke while he picked up the phone, ignoring Edward and winking at Louis, playing with his fingers until the line picked up, “Hi-,”

He ordered some painkillers to the room. Some sedative to help Louis rest because now he knows his ribs aren’t broken, Harry knowing a broken bone when he sees one, rest and medicine is the best remedy for now.

Harry kissed him, thanked him and kissed him again. “He’s my Brother.”

“I know.”

“I just need to know why.”

Louis squeezed his wrist, “Alpha.”

By the door, Edward leant against the doorway, arms crossed and patient. His gaze lingered on that wrist, lifting to follow the line of Louis’ neck as he peered up so lovingly to his sibling, whispering how he understood and how sickly sweet it all was.

He was scared. Truly, petrified. Edward could sense it and that meant Harry was drowning in it. He knew how important this was for Harry so he was masquerading as being this brave little boy, Harry’s brave little human.

Good boy, gold star for you.

But Edward knew everything was an act. All for Harry. Harry treat him like he were some equal but Edward couldn’t empathise, brows twitching at the tenderness between them. He could rip Louis apart and now he’d seen fear fester on those gentle features he thought it suited him rather well.

Edward rubbed his neck where Harry’s hand was earlier, watching Louis as he watched Harry finally leave his bedside and join him at the door.

“Out.” His brother’s demand got him uncoiling his arms.

Harry was past him and in the lounge. But Edward stared on at Louis, wincing and trying to reposition himself against the tower of pillows, not noticing Edward’s planate gaze until the last second, pulling the door close behind him and sealing him away from the two of them.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like slow burn should be my middle name. Thoughts? Next chapter is coming tomorrow.

“So, he just left?”

“Yes dear.” Anne had the telephone pinned between her jaw and shoulder, sorting through the mess of paperwork on her desk. She was awfully calm about it all and Gemma couldn’t understand why.

“But- Mum we’ve just lost an Alpha.” She scoffed, shaking her head. A million things were running through her head about why this is all so wrong and out of place yet she felt utterly alone in her conviction. “How can we just sit and let this happen, aren’t there rules?”

Her Mother paused her shuffling and looked to her with a small frown, “Rules, sweetheart?”

“Yes!” She almost threw her hands in the air, frustrated, “Rules about removing yourself from a pack. Alphas can’t just fall out as they please, there is a procedure outside of an exile I know there is.”

Anne sighed, lining up the pile of brown envelopes with a sated expression. She scribbled something on a sticky note and slapped it on top of them, about to reply when someone spoke in her ear, “Look- Jonathan hello, yes - could you wait for just one minute please?” She tapped a button and pulled the phone from her cheek and held it with both hands, “Gemma. We all know Ansel was a lone wolf at heart. He was brought into the pack outside of the norm, your Father saw the potential because of his history with the Elgorts but that was as far as it stretched. We’re surprised he lasted this long.”

Gemma tried to interrupt but she wasn’t allowed, a hand raised to hush her instantly. She fell back against the chair and sighed.

“Ansel came to us with his reasons for wanting to leave and we accepted.”

“Yeah but he’s native-,”

“Doesn’t matter.”

It wasn’t good enough. It bothered Gemma and she shuffled in her seat, uncrossed her legs only to cross them again, “But why - yeah okay, _why?_ What did he say?”

“You know I can’t pass that sort of information.”

“But-,”

“You use that word one more time I will forbid it.” Anne smirked at her as she sank back into her seat again, uncontrollably fidgety with an unslakable curiosity. “Now, if you don’t mind.”

“What about Harry? He’s back tomorrow have you even told him?”

As her finger hovered over the hold button she cocked her head to the side, peering over her spectacles at her daughter with a pointed look. “Something tells me he won’t lose any sleep over it sweetheart.”

And right, yeah.

Gemma was dismissed even though her appetite wasn’t satisfied. She had a thirst for knowledge and wouldn’t stop until she got the full story. They are down an Alpha and for no apparent reason whatsoever. When Dylan were exiled at least it were for good reason. He betrayed Harry and Harry stepped up, did what he had to do. Fine. But something didn’t add up about this and every step she took her anxiety grew for it _bothered_ her something rotten.

Her gut was her guide and her innate intuition had never let her down thus far.

Coming up to her room she flopped onto her bed.

Checking her phone with a drawn out sigh she saw a text from Zayn asking if it were still alright to swing by later on. She confirmed it was but doubted she’d be any good company. When her stomach was uneasy like this she tends to get restless and irritated and it didn’t bode well for the people around her. She hated that - Harry was normally the one to be irrational and snappy and she was the calm one, the easy one that rolled her eyes behind him as he sounded off and broke things.

Edward was like that too. Calm. Collected at the best of times. The only times she’d have to work her soothing magic on him was when they got into fights and she had to get in the middle - quite literally - of them to break it up before anything-

She rolled onto her side and closed her eyes, willing that thought away.

Harry and Ansel were never being eye to eye. Their collective testosterone when in the same room meant it were uncomfortable for everybody else. Two Alpha males with two opposing morals, most of the time. Ansel was selfish, a traditionalist that believed in order and respect whereas Harry has always been more inclusive, open minded but deathly strict where he needed to be. She wasn’t dreading to tell him the news but she was saddened by it, regardless of their differences they’re supposed to be a family - a unit. Losing two members in under a month is a knock.

 

*

 

In the end, Louis got his wish.

And that was about the only silver lining he were going to get.

His injuries were just as Harry had suspected; beyond the reach of his care and needed to be tended by a professional. The morning after came around after Louis’ collective three hours of miserable sleep to find his Alpha laid up on top of the covers next to him.

After melting into how adorable he looked curled up like that with a protective arm thrown over his hips his heart dropped several hundred feet when he remembered Edward and how he wasn’t meant to be left alone and as he couldn’t see him within the radius he were in, panic struck.

But when he turned his head to the side, sitting up with a muffled moan as to not disturb the snoozing lump of a boy, he clamped down on his lip, torn between wanting to laugh because of the image of Harry wrestling him to such a glamorous position and… no, that’s about it. He just wanted to laugh. He was so happy Edward was stuck over there and they were here he did giggle, elbows slipping a little when he tried to lay back down.

“ _Ah- ow_ ,” He hissed and turned, Harry stirring with a groan.

He couldn’t help it and let the fit of giggles burst past his lips, then some more, holding himself up on one arm and gripping his side. Harry grumbled something and stretched and Louis bit his bottom lip again staying as still as he could, stifling any further sounds.

He watched as Harry ironed out his limbs, clearly exhausted from his eyes still being closed. He looked heavy, the mattress creaking as he moved and sounded grim as he yawned and his jaw snapped shut. He stayed like that on his back for a bit, licking his lips until he felt the little weight next to him come to life and just like that, was instantly energised.

“Uh no you don’t,” He was pulling him back down at a stretch, flattening his little love’s torso with his palms, “not going anywhere.”

His voice was torn from fatigue, worn from stress. Coming to sit up properly he blinked away the sleep, licked his lips again and kissed Louis’ lightly, then again. He hummed when Louis pulled him back for a longer and wetter third.

“Morning.” Their lips moved against each other’s into a smile.

Harry’s was a little in-genuine but Louis kept silent, watched as he shifted back and resumed his surveillance of Louis’ sore body, “You okay?”

It felt as though his ribs had been substituted as a grater and his head was so overloaded that if he closed his eyes it may fall to the side and snap his neck.

“Yeah.” He nodded, voice high, casual. “You?”

“Nice try.”

And Louis rolled his eyes, regretting it instantly when the back of his sockets pulled.

“Gonna have to get you checked out…” Harry was distracted, bones clicking as he was up and out of the bed at the other side, pausing to crack his back.

It was soon decided all assessments of Louis’ capability to move, the measure of how well he felt or his overall health in general laid nowhere within Louis’ say so and was entirely down to Harry’s better and more accurate judgement. He knew better than to argue.

Harry ignored the anomaly in the room, the one Louis had yet to ask him about and went about ordering them some breakfast: Two lots of poached eggs on toast with smoked salmon, bacon and sausages on the side, a banana and strawberry smoothie, a pot of earl grey, some rich roast coffee and two blueberry muffins. He looked at Louis after he made the order and got a raised eyebrow, reluctantly tacking on a bowl of chocolate hoops with full fat milk.

“So uh,” Louis started, only bringing it up because it seemed ludicrous not to as they were passing on the way to the bathroom - another thing Harry was unwilling to let Louis do by himself, “how did that happen?”

Harry didn’t even look in the direction of his Brother, focused on getting Louis into the bathroom and setting the temperate of the water in the shower just right.

“I knocked him out with some trobadone.”

“Shut up.”

Harry frowned, removing Louis’ shirt gently, “No.”

“How di- _where_ , did you get that from?”

A part of him dreaded the answer.

“I packed some just incase.”

Louis couldn’t get the image of Edward’s unconscious body slumped upright against the radiator out of his head, hands encased behind his back to the pipe as he snored gently under drug induced sleep. He giggled and Harry couldn’t understand why.

“In case what?” Louis jibed, holding onto Harry’s shoulder as he helped him step out of his underwear, “You wanted to knock yourself out for a day?”

The drug in reference wasn’t a standard issue tranquilliser, it was specified for the use on large mammals which included a muscle mass up to that of an elephant, or the brutality of a lion. One shot of it would bring the king of the African savanna down within minutes.

Harry was unamused, lips straight and tight as he tested the water a final time before stepping both of them underneath it.

Louis angled his head away squinting, letting the water soak his body first, “And the chains?”

“Look I’m unpredictable. Being alone with you for the first time, I didn’t know how things were going to pan out or,” He ran a calloused thumb over Louis’ jaw, eyes drawn to the bruising upon the highest point on his cheek bone, “how my alter ego would react to the intimacy. You might have needed to restrain me. I wanted to be prepared.”

There was a note of shame on Harry’s tongue as he explained, not quite looking him in the eye. But Louis leant into the hand, smiling as he turned his face and kissed it.

Harry left it until they were due to go out the door and Louis had grown mildly concerned at Edward’s unresponsive state through all the noise, to inform him that he’d injected the full dose, all 200mg of the stuff. And Louis’ jaw fell. Harry was unimpressed at his concern but nevertheless reassured him he’d be fine, that the hefty dose of sedative was needed for their genetics or else it’d be futile. Just meant he’d be out for a good five or six hours.

Before Louis could argue they were out the door.

The hospital wasn’t fun. It were like every cliched movie or soap opera Louis’d ever witnessed where the person got admitted to the A&E department covered in suspicious bruising, unexplainable injuries that they justified with a pathetic _‘tripped and fell’_ story.

He was now that person.

And he hated the stares, Harry more. Meeting every single one with a rival glare that had heads ducking and eyes hurriedly diverting. He was cranky and short with every one, even Louis. Despite being a constant presence at Louis’ side, strong and imperial he was distracted half the time, Louis catching him in another world every now and then.

Thankfully the doctor saw them quickly enough and Louis tried to ease over the tension of his wandering eyes that fell onto Harry’s battered knuckles and bruised jaw, not to mention his bust temple - the harsh light of hospital wards really didn’t show them in a flattering light - with conversation about how his Father was actually a doctor back home.

Harry was thankful for the national health system in the UK, they would go under the radar once he got back to his parents and explained what had happened. They could make this sort of record disappear, he didn’t have to worry.

He felt nauseated at the thought as it passed, jaw growing tense and totally unaware of the people he’d shouldered past with Louis firmly in his grasp.

“Careful Harry,” Louis pleaded, seeing the looks they got in return but to Harry it were like they were the only two around.

He signed for Louis’ swiftly when he could as he were the one with the dual citizenship, and after a heavy prescription of painkillers, strict instructions on how and when to rest, two hours later they were out and Louis had a great big bandage around his midsection that made breathing a chore.

“I told you to get checked out.” Louis said, buckling himself in after Harry grimaced.

He palmed his diaphragm and insisted he were fine.

“But you’re in pain.”

“ _Louis._ ”

And that was that.

Louis fell back silent and peered out the window.

They still hadn’t spoken about Edward. When he tried bringing it up during their waiting period in the hospital Harry dismissed it, telling him he’d explain later, said he’s sick of talking and would rather think about anything but. Fair enough, Louis thought. He’s obviously been emotionally dragged through the past twenty-four hours and wants to just zone it out for a few more. So he left it, and waited for it to be approached again by him.

“Edward is spouting bullshit.”

Refocusing himself back into the taxi, Louis looked at the driver and then to Harry, realising he was in fact talking to him. Harry had ignored all of Damien’s calls after the previous night, sending him a text to inform him he were off duty and nothing else. He couldn’t explain something when he wasn’t even sure about it himself.

“Why?” He wanted to be careful, knew that he was treading on a minefield here and if he wanted to get Harry to talk, slow and gentle is the pace to go.

“Five years to come up with something and he manages some bullshit story.”

He knew how to navigate Harry’s grouchiness by now, when the mood took and Harry was stressed or blunt, he knew how to calm him down and unpick the thorns from his joints. But this was different.

Louis flicked his eyes to his jogging leg, to the hand that had come to hold his own loosely on the middle seat. It was like he knew he were being distant, aware enough but unable to control it.

“What’s he say?”

His other were at his mouth, covering it. He was looking out the window so it were hard to gage his reaction. But the distress in his voice was enough to go by, “It’s bullshit.”

Excellent. It was a grand job that this was one area in which Louis shone and Harry was extensively void; he had the patience of a Saint. He squeezed his hand, feeling the rings rub together and his raw knuckles whiten from the pressure, “It’s alright.”

“It’s not alright,” His voice wavered, sounding awfully tearful, “he has an agenda against me. He wants to pull me down and I don’t know why.”

The drive was smooth, _so_ smooth that they hadn’t realised how far they’d come, both seeming to realise in unison where they were as they looked out Harry’s window, Louis whispering, “Gosh.”

“Quickest thirty minutes of my fucking life.” Harry mumbled, throwing a fifty pound note on the dashboard and helping Louis out the car without a word.

The doorman nodded at them but Harry’s smile was dull, poised.

He felt for him.

Sure enough he’s the one who came off physically the worst, with a bandage, a bruised cheek and a very passive limp to prove it but they were paper issues, they heal. Harry’s pain was rooted somewhere dark and took a great effort to carry.

His Brother was back. Regardless of why it should be a momentous ordeal; there should be anger and pain but in-between happy tears and the best onset nausea from smiling and laughing and crying too much, lightheadedness from forgetting to eat from talking too much and relearning each other. They should be together and happy and the reason as to why and how should be explained dextrously but it isn’t, and it hasn’t.

Instead he’s back with a vengeance that is cold and blood thirsty and Harry is caught off guard. His loveable soft centre taking a beating. His Alpha put to the painstaking test of what is right and what his heart desperately seeks.

The elevator doors seal shut and Harry punches them.

Louis only just holds back a noise and grips the rail. He lets go of his breath and watches Harry’s broad back as he leans against them, breathing deep. “Harry.”

He shook his head once, “I’m not doing it.”

“Doing what?”

“I can’t bare seeing him.”

Well Louis had no plans to go up there by himself.

“Maybe you’ll feel different,” Daring to approach that back felt more detrimental than it should, “it’s another day, things have had time to-,”

The bing above their heads meant they were there and it felt too quick, the doors sliding open right in front of Harry’s breadth and he grunted, pushed forward. He stormed across the hall, entirely wrapped up in his own demon’s when he remembered his other hobbling half and stopped, turned, pushed the hair from his face.

“You need to rest.” He were his guide once more, hand soft on his waist as he pulled the key card from inside his jacket.

He knew what was coming, it was that tone he’d heard so many times before that only now made sense. The kick to his voice that made it sound like this was the best idea - the only idea, no arguing. Like he were doing you a kindness. It was an authority without the need to ignite his Alpha’s might, a touch to the side of patronising.

“No.”

“He’ll be out for another hour at least,” Harry fumbled with the lock, the card only beeping on the third attempt and he shoved the door open.

“Harry stop.”

But he didn’t listen, already in the lounge area arranging cushions and plumping the ones that made up the couch; nesting. He was muttering how it was okay, he’s tied up even if he does stir he had his phone so.

So what?

So Louis was meant to be fine with this with the secure knowledge that his safety net existed in a phone call if the occasion arose that he became endangered with a feral, violent Alpha who were twice his size, five times his strength and for all Louis was aware of, still anchoring after seeking some sort of revenge on Harry, i.e. _killing him_.

“You’re not leaving me alone with him.”

The doors to the bedroom clicked close and Harry stilled there, hand still coiled around the handle.

He looked at Louis and even though his heart was screaming for him to stay put he was on the cusp of a rage he knew he’d rather not ride out in his company. Releasing the handle he stalked around the kitchen counter, eyes flitting to the two crystal tumblers that sat abandoned on the side, one still holding a bit of the whiskey.

To pull himself together he had to be selfish, ignore the distress signals that were encompassing the boy and get out. He needed to breathe, to mull things over and simmer. Away from Louis, away from the hotel and its connotations. Away from him.

“An hour.” He took Louis’ hands, who was still standing on the landing area before the door looking lost and small. “Give me an hour.”

“He’s-,” Seeing the hands he’s come to adore, come to depend on, lift his own and brush his knuckles wasn’t as reassuring as it was probably intended, “what if he breaks free?”

Harry laughed through a straight face, huffing and kissing his lips, “Those chains will break his bones before he gets anywhere.”

“Roman told me you managed to get loose once.”

And when Harry returns home he’s going to wrap them around Roman’s neck, “He said what?”

Louis nodded, looking at him in earnest, “During a rut? Said you were wrapped up real tight, bound pretty hard j-jsut like,” He risked a half-hearted glance towards the bedroom, “…but you were so angry you yanked them off the-,”

“Yes well.” The elder cut him off abruptly, pulling on the lapels of his coat he cleared his throat and straightened up, already planning his gob-on-legs beta’s punishment. “That was an extreme situation, very different from this. ”

Louis doubted he were being entirely truthful about it. He knew Harry was quite aware of his own strength and that it were duplicated in his twin Brother. But time together had proven useful as he knew not to push these things as Harry’s full button was approaching steadfast.

“Look I won’t be long, even if he wakes he will be so drugged up he won’t be able to do fuck all about it.” Feeling the need to explain himself was making the tight ball of fury inside rattle and grow, but Louis was different and he’d always make an exception but if he didn’t haul himself out of there in the next minute his patience would wear thin even with him. “I need a time out.”

He kissed his hands again, eyelashes fluttering close on the moment he spent gifting it, then up to his lips where he was more thorough. Louis leant into it, hoping to keep him here, to somehow convince him otherwise and to tie him to the spot with his lips. But then the cold air whipped between them and his hands were dropped.

Harry seemed hesitant, his body carrying him forward towards the door but his hands were twitching, his eyes looking to every piece of furniture on the way, as if scanning for a reason, an excuse to stop.

“Order food.” He offered, turning at the last second and pointing to the phone. He sounded gutless and Louis shrunk back, picking at a scab on his arm. “Order whatever you want just, stay there and relax, okay? Watch a movie, sleep, just please stay here, keep away from the bedroom and I’ll be back within an hour.”

Harry felt like the smallest person in the world, selfish and vile. He was abandoning the sweetest virtue on purpose and leaving him to breathe the same air as the gravest evil he’d met thus far. But to save personal hell, he knew he were doing them both a considerable favour within a small window of time, so he swallowed his decision and left the room before the look on Louis’ face ate him alive.

The click of the door echoed when he left.

And Louis’d never felt more aware of his surroundings.

He eyed up the sofa, looked to the cushions Harry’d arranged, the faux fur throws he’d brought from the bedroom, the spare quilt too. The bandage around his middle felt like it were getting tighter. It were only 2:30PM but he was done with the day. Would quite like this week to hurry up too. He took in a sharp breath through his teeth as he bent to collect the remote, a quick glance at the bedroom doors that lasted the better side of a second and he sat amidst Harry’s creation.

From the small time he’d spent underneath the throw, he were surprised to find it smelt like Harry, and he pulled it over himself, the television coming to life before him and he closed his eyes to enjoy the scent. He bundled himself up, brought the soft material to his face so he could barely smell anything else and when his hand eventually found its way to the surface of all the covers and pillows, he flicked through the channels.

Twenty minutes had passed and Louis checked his phone in the hope it was more. He flopped down and got back to deciding on Kill Bill or Prometheus. Tarantino or Scott. Psycho killer or sci-fi killer.

Ten more minutes dragged by and equipped with the assurance it was definitely closing in on an hour by now Louis nearly threw his phone at the monitor when he saw it wasn’t. Not even a little.

He wasn’t hungry. Appetite a thing of the yesteryear after the past 24 hours they’d had. However he’d wrestled with the likelihood that eating, or _waiting_ to eat, may pass the time more efficiently than Michael Fassbender.

So like a fish on a hook his eye kept being drawn to the double doors as he pulled himself up and towards the phone. The doors which Harry’s forbade him from, holding behind them several hundred volts of sedated energy in the form of two green eyes and an abhorrent lack of emotional capacity.

“Come on Louis.” He whispered to himself, shaking himself from his thoughts. He was only scaring himself with all the what if’s.

He was alone. There was no one in the next room. He was alone and his boyfriend, his lovely, grouchy alpha would be back within the hour which should be around the same time his food would be delivered so it was alright. It was all okay and the denial was actually beginning to work a treat until he heard something that didn’t derive from himself nor anywhere near him.

It was almost definitely a noise - metal on metal. He froze, stood between the cave of blankets and Harry’s scent and the long sleek table, separating him from the television that was so big it could be mistaken for the space craft Fassbender was currently aboard.

There it was again.

Louis clutched the phone and could feel the sweat already clamming him pores.

He stared and stared at the double doors that were shutting him off. The solid wood barrier that would take a considerable amount of effort to bust through. He let go of the phone, dropped it somewhere on the throws as he sat down next to it. He let go of his breath and buried his face in his hands, hating how hot they were.

If he were to go anywhere near those doors Edward would scent him for sure. If that noise meant he were conscious then his senses were going to come round with him and he’d know he were alone. Alone and absolutely terrified.

And there’s his panic again.

Louis stood up again much too quickly for someone who has semi functioning ribs and he nearly had to sit back down, leg giving way too. “ _Shit._ ”

He steadied himself with a deep breath and straightened up, looked back to those doors.

Last night he challenged Harry against letting them run away from the danger, to face the aggressor dead on to display a unity, to show them they weren’t going to be cowered into a corner from his tricks. Granted it may have turned out to be one of the worst decisions he’s made in his life and resulted in three major injuries however the principle was still solid. If he even stood a chance against winning the mental battle against the brute he was to face his fear alone. Harry wasn’t always going to be there to protect him. Although, if Harry finds out he’d even dared gone anywhere near Edward in his absence he’d hit the roof and the idea of being at the receiving end of two Alpha’s wraths wasn’t a comforting thought.

But that was besides the point.

His neck vibrated with the sticky thickness of his pulse, pretty sure he’d be able to see the veins jump with the pressure of it as he took the brass handle lightly. He paused to listen for any signs of movement, but when all fell silent, turned slowly and pushed.

He lingered at the door, fingers curling around the wood, barely visible to the inside or the male occupying it.

A miniature wave of relief washed over him when he saw him and saw he were still attached and just struggling against the restraints, although not in the way Louis had suspected. It didn’t look like he were trying to escape, more like he were incredibly uncomfortable, rolling his body this way and that so he could align those long legs to the side along with his torso.

But now he were facing this way and he’d spotted the breach in the doors.

Louis’ breath caught as eyes clapped onto his position, wider than he’d seen them before, disbelief painting their resolve. The softness melted as fast as it came, dropped from his features when his jaw tensed and he ducked his head, “ _Peek-a-boo_.”

Louis slipped back behind the door like a scared goose, somehow believing this would eradicate the past few seconds; out of sight out of mind. He heard Edward’s rasped chuckle and looked down to his chest, seeing it rise and fall rapidly. Edward would pick up on his nerves like a shark would blood. This was a terrible idea. He had no idea how to bring it to a rhythmic plateau that would at least feign togetherness to get past the keen nose of an Alpha. He really didn’t think this through.

“What do you think I’m going to do while I’m a part of the plumbing sweetheart?”

Louis knew he posed no physical threat being chained up like that. Probably pretty weak too from the tranquilliser easing but still very present in his system. He could probably walk right up to him and poke him with a stick and he’d do nothing.

He looked up from his sporadic breathing and peered back through the gap at the sound of Edward grunting and pulling on his chains, dense biceps maxed out in one of Harry’s t-shirts as he tried pulling against his restraints again and cursed lightly.

Louis wasn’t going to test the stick theory.

Edward was panting when he heard the door creak open wider and the boy stepped through feverishly. The small draft from the main room swept in behind him and carried something sweet into his vicinity. It hit him like a truck. Nothing sweet about the realisation of where that scent originated for it only grew stronger as the boy gained ground.

His voice was just as sickly, “I, don’t know what I’m doing here.”

Edward looked at his shaking hand now having found a resting spot on the bed’s frame, the way his eyes were wide and looking at him like he might detonate at any second. “I didn’t ask.”

Louis chewed the inside of his cheek, drawing a little blood but he didn’t care. Edward was looking at him like he could smell that blood and he swallowed, looked to his feet crossing over like a child’s would, stood coy in the corner as he waited for an adult’s instruction.

“Are you in pain?” Louis was curious, didn’t know if he actually cared about the answer, but was curious either way.

Besides the blisteringly obvious traits that had come to light during recent events, Edward and Harry were frighteningly different. Mannerisms world’s apart or militarised in their coordination, there was no grey area in their personalities, they were either identical or opposed ’til death.

Louis saw it in the way Edward held his glare, _powerful,_ and analytical. He could see right through the bullshit you put up, able to read you with ease, watching every right and wrong move you make, working you out until he could subjugate any possibility of you recovering from his attack. His eyes were precise and focused, weaving through Louis’ little gestures, noting the skip in every beat, the length of pause before his response and savouring the hitch in his breath when he were caught off guard.

“Physically?” Edward responded, a seductive slur to his words. “Course not.”

Harry was the same. Eyes that struck like lightening, then hands that came down hard as thunder. There was no pretence with him. You had one chance and if you fucked it you paid. Edward was more of a thinker. Harry’s stare wasn’t nearly as crucifying and you didn’t feel manipulated by it, what you see is what you get and if you were wise you took heed in its warning and abided. But there was a pain missing from his gaze that was oh so present in Edward’s and although Louis knew he shouldn’t be drawn to, he wanted to know why.

He was so uncomfortable, toeing the foot of the bed wishing he’d never come in and quite frankly forgetting why he even bothered. He looked back through to the kitchen, eyeing up the soft, safe area on the sofa. “Thirsty?”

Edward’s throat had ran dry from the whiskey he and Harry soaked up into the early hours like two abandoned sponges in the sahara. He nodded, “Water would be good.”

He finally looked away, rolling his head back onto the metal when he smirked, hearing Louis shift, “D’you know what’d be better?”

He quite enjoyed the lack of a response. Enjoying the scent picking up closer to him a few moments later too when he opened his eyes to find Louis on the floor, crouching slowly until he ended up on his knees anyway, shuffling towards him with a glass of water.

Louis looked at the glass like he expected it to magically disappear and Edward’s thirst become satisfied.

Edward tipped his chin. “Broken?”

It took Louis a moment to realise what he were asking. Following his line of vision he automatically placed a palm on his midsection that his loose sweater was covering. He’d caught onto Louis’ physical discomfort.

Louis was disgusted, pulling a face and shuffling so close his heart picked up again, not sure if it ever totally levelled out, disgusted at Edward and disgusted at the blush that felt like it originated from his fucking clavicle as it crept up his neck and he told Edward to open up.

He did just that, tipping his head back with eyes like slits, pupils directed at him the whole time as he welcomed Louis’ spoon feeding.

“More?” Louis watched the boy lick his lips, hanging his head forward and nodding.

He was so close to him he could join the tiny moles on his neck and jaw together in dot-to-dot. He could see the dusting of stubble forming there too, along his jaw, on his chin and above his upper lip. It was so faint you’d have to be this close to see it.

And Louis' sensibility was so faint you’d have to have a few screws loose to voluntarily get that close in the first place. He were so caught up in tracing the features of his face, familiar, strong, but cold, that he didn’t catch his gaze until it were too late.

“Something I can help you with?”

It brought Louis back to earth, snapping backwards, “What?” Sitting back realising the glass were empty he looked at it so he didn’t have to look at him. “No.”

Scoffing at a weird compulsion he could feel work its way into his skin despite the fucker being physically inept Louis decided there was no reason for him to stay in there a second longer and was about to leave until he saw something that really shouldn’t have him sitting back down so quickly and leaning in a touch, “Wait…”

Edward’s brows slowly came together, more irritated than curious as to what’d caught his attention.

Louis continued to lean - a safe distance of course, not enjoying the proximity they shared earlier, “Your eyes,” His arse immediately slapped back to his heels when Edward moved his legs, “…they’re um, blue.”

He shook his head, looked to the glass Louis held in his lap, “Grey.”

“Grey?” Louis reflected, blinking like he’d suddenly regained sight.

“Grey.”

Now he were this close - again - he could really _see_ it. No wonder he was so transfixed, he didn’t think he’d ever see eyes a more brilliant shade of emerald than Harry’s, so when he clasped onto Edward’s he were taken aback by how electric they seemed, silver almost in their hue. Now it makes sense.

It came to pass that they’d been staring at each other for longer than Louis deemed necessary, never long enough for Edward, which was the point the boy was waiting for, smirking slowly at the flustered retreat as Louis came to a hurried stand. Big mistake as he latched onto his side and nearly fell over, _would_ have fallen over if it weren’t for the cushioning blow of the bed which he somehow managed to gracefully stumble onto.

Food. That were his excuse.

After he caught his breath and avoided everything that had a heartbeat, Louis discarded the empty glass and made his way back into the lounge area where he found the phone he’d left in the middle of the nest of covers. He felt itchy and wanted to gain as much distance from the bedroom as possible.

He checked the time and found it’d been an hour and five minutes since Harry’s departure. A text had come through four minutes previous from the boy himself, saying he’d got a big surprise for him. Sensing a lift in mood was required, he text back.

**_Louis: little inappropriate to be cracking penis jokes Styles_ **

Not long after he set it down on the table and got to dialling room service, the screen lit up.

**_Harry.S: Nothing about my penis is a joke._ **  
**_Harry. S: You should take it completely seriously._ **

Louis snorted unattractively, not minding the pain in his rib when he tapped back embarrassingly quick.

_**Louis: well once you actually give it to me… maybe i will** _

Louis was still cackling, proud of himself, a mental _ding_ for point 1 to Tomlinson going off in the back of his mind that when the small female voice came through on the receiver he scrambled for the phone, dropping his own on the floor.

“ _Hi-_ yeah sorry I uh,” He cleared his throat, giggling and apologising to the lady, “yeah could I get some room service please?”

He navigated the menu, deciding on a simple grilled cheese sandwich with a hot chocolate which he could envision Harry turning his nose up at, the combination of savoury and sweet practically curdling his stomach. As the woman was repeating his order and asked him if that was everything, his voice lurched forward before his sense could intervene, “I’ll take a grilled chicken salad also.”

Sitting back he picked up chewing the inside of his mouth again, fumbling with the phone before throwing it far from his reach to the other side of the mound of covers. Something lit up in the corner of his eye and he remembered his mobile, collecting it from the floor.

**_Harry.S: Careful what you wish for._ **

He stared at the screen, held it with both hands as his tummy curled around a feeling.

Before he knew it his knees were up to his chest and he’d somehow sunk back into the cushions, laid back a little, still staring at the letters on the screen. He didn’t text back and didn’t want to. Not sure what he’d say to something like that anyway but it silenced him in a way he thought weren't plausible at present and that’s probably why Harry said it.

Louis picked up the movie where he left off, watching it with his phone laid flat on his chest, arm hanging limp off the sofa because he’d come to discover it were the only position that didn’t pull on his rib with every breath. The doorbell chimed and that could only mean one thing.

Tipping the man with a ten pound note Harry’d left in the dish Louis thanked him as he closed the door behind him, ignoring the voice in his head that told him he were Pretty Woman and got to his food.

The doors to the bedroom were still open, one of them anyway, wide open so that if Louis wanted to he could look straight in to see Edward from his position. If he wanted to. Which he didn’t. Not while he finished up his grilled cheese anyway, washing it down with the hot chocolate Harry’d promised him he’d get the brand or recipe of before they leave.

Walking back up to the kitchen counter where he’d carried the silver tray through to he eyed up the final dish that was left covered. He stared at it for a minute, the television’s entertainment decorating the background noise as he contemplated whether he were crossing some sort of line or if he’d genuinely, _literally_ had the sense kicked out of him.

“Aren’t you a domestic delight.”

“Well it’s either this or you starve, _Alpha._ ”

Louis shrugged, holding the large silver plate on top of both palms.

Edward regarded him blankly, despite his stomach growling at the worst interval and hating the little smile he knew Louis was fighting against. “Why would you care?”

“Because Harry does.”

Put so simply Edward didn’t know what to say. So he remained silent, showing nothing and continued to watch Louis assemble himself once again at the same _safe_ distance away from him as before. He was careful about balancing the plate on his lap and made sure it was going to stay put before he prodded a piece of chicken breast with the fork and raised it, “Open up.”

The whole thing would have been overwhelmingly cute, spoon feeding a near full-grown Alpha in a lightly docile state, the only sound being Edward’s soft munching and oddly chafed breath. But the reality was far from.

“What,” Louis interjected, frowning while watching the Alpha try finish that last mouthful and turn his head, “you’re on a diet?”

Louis’ light sarcasm wasn’t fooling Edward. He may well appear to be alarmingly okay, suspiciously forgiving considering, with sitting so close while he feeds the man who tried to kill him eighteen hours ago, but it wasn’t without strife. His eyes would shift to the shackles behind his back every time Edward retrieved the fork, checking they were still intact, then he’d look back before Edward caught him. Then again, if Edward turned his head or hung it while he chewed, they’d flit to his arms, strong but _still_ restrained. The red marks of his struggles were indicators he wasn’t getting anywhere. And Louis could relax a little, and only a little.

Edward shook his head, “Harry.”

Louis pulled a face, resting the fork on the plate. “No, _Louis_.” He angled his head to look at Edward’s face, tongue picking out the food from between his teeth, “Does that drug have hallucinative qualities too?”

But a voice rang through right from the landing and Louis’ efforts to keep the plate steady went to pot, the remaining chicken and garnish spilling over the floor near Edward’s thigh as he shot up, “Ow- _fuck,_ ow,” Louis groaned and Edward found it gleefully entertaining, like watching an angry kitten in his slender proportions while his hair was mussed like that, “Harry?”

Harry was at the bedroom doors before Louis even reached the foot of the bed, frighteningly fast and Louis froze, falling into line so quick it made Edward snicker.

Harry shot him a glare but Edward’s smirk remained.

“What’s going on?” Harry inspected Louis’ rigid form, trying to figure out whether that was fear or guilt or both plastered across his face, “What’s he done?”

He would always assume the worst from the worst before considering Louis. After a swift scan of his arms, neck, face and concluding he were actually okay, Harry zoned in on the plate, the fresh glass of water on the side table and it didn’t take a world of knowledge to put two and two together.

“I couldn’t just leave him.” It burst through his lips, sensing the disapproval.

He weren’t facing Louis, just Edward. Who wasn’t smirking anymore, eyes looking too heavy to do anything actually, staring forward into nothing. He didn’t know whether he had any right to feel the anger he did about it.

“He was thirsty,” Louis tried again, gliding past Harry to pick the water up for no reason at all, “he hadn’t eaten in so long.”

The tension from Harry’s shoulders dropped and whatever it was Harry was struggling with, was let go. “Very well.”

Dumbfounded, Louis allowed for further resistance, but Harry was pulling off his jacket, stood in a deep emerald sweatshirt. His face looked more hollowed, cheek bones sharper than usual, pink lips a harsh contrast to his pale skin. The biting weather outside had probably caused his skin to pull tight, raking a hand through his tousled hair and sighing. “About that surprise.”

Edward’s interest peaked, eyebrow raising towards the both of them at the side of the bed, “Aw yeah, Louis your boyfriend is actually a psychotic killer with a one track aim for total domination.”

“ _Shut_ ,” Harry grit, pointing a finger, “your filthy fucking mouth.”

“Okay let’s go,” Louis didn’t want round two, or rather, to stand witness to Harry beating Edward into a pile of blood on the expensive carpeted floor that they’d already ruined with small specks and now oily chicken, “come on.”

He pushed against Harry’s stocky chest, could feel the heat coming through his top as he didn’t move for the first few seconds, still looking at Edward. “ _Harry!_ ”

“You know,” Edward piped up again just as Louis managed to get Harry to the doors, “you should train him better. It’s degrading enough to be fucking a human but to let him get away with speaking to you the way he does.”

He knew what he was doing, clucked his tongue and waited for it.

Harry knew what he was doing too, and Louis. But it seemed Harry really was stuck right smack bang in the middle of a rage he didn’t possess the reigns to and launched back to Edwards’ position, grabbed his t-shirt and heaved him up as far as the chains would allow until some twanged and crunched and Edward growled from the pain.

But then the pain turned into sadistic joy and he was just laughing, looking at Harry’s furious face mere inches from his own as if he didn’t have the upper hand, “It’s too easy.”

“ _Alpha_.”

His hands remained tight in his top but his head swivelled to the side, eyes dangerous again.

“Let him go.”

He was right.

They were both right. Getting him from zero to one hundred was like turning the dial on a cooker, one flick of the wrist, one sentence containing all the correct pressure points and he were there. It’s solved nothing over his years and will continue on its destructive path by not setting any wrongs right. He let him fall to the floor in an awkward lump and left without a sound.

Once Louis had him in the other room he was determined to keep him there. As much as his weakened body would allow him to anyway. At present he didn’t know what to do with the fidgeting, pacing simmering rage of a man before him. Looking around him like he were looking for something, mind ablaze with thoughts Louis probably thought could rival his worst nightmare.

When he stopped behind the cabinet, leaning onto the side he looked at Louis once and spoke like he’d spent the past hour trying to figure how to say it. “You shouldn’t have entertained him.”

“I didn’t,” Louis insisted, “I promise you it was all my idea. I wanted to fetch him the water. He didn’t even ask me for food I just ordered it.”

Harry shook his head, looking at his phone once before flipping it onto the table, “You think anything you do is of your own accord around him?”

He was confused so he stayed silent, Harry looking at him in a way that made him want to shrink back.

“It’s already happening,” He beckoned to Louis’ body as if it were obvious, “he has you wrapped.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Without you even realising it he’s got mind control over you. He does that." He brandished a loose hand, "You won’t understand.”

“Try me.”

Harry flexed his fingers and the bones within them cracked, Louis never liked that. “He can manipulate people - always has done. You don’t realise it but you’ll be bending to his will, falling over yourself backwards to make sure you’re pleasing him. He can bring you round to his way of thinking,” He snapped his fingers and Louis flinched, “like that. Before you know it, he’ll have you on your knees in the same fashion.”

Louis glared, his crass cutting. “You’re a pig.”

“Glad we’re on the same page kitten.”

Both boys jumped and turned at the addition to the room, rubbing his red raw wrists that looked like they shouldn’t be able to move without being in crippling pain yet there he was, a minor wince here and a sharp breath there and besides the bust lip, the laceration across the bridge of his nose, the splatter of bruising to his temple and the light sheen of sweat he were as good as new.

“ _How the fu-_ ,” Louis shot in front of Harry, petrified, but adamant about not letting the two gigantic vessels of testosterone collide.

“With thanks to your brutish nature you loosened the chains,” Edward sounded bored, peering at his wrists, “not without a price though.”

Louis closed his eyes at the growl behind him, _right_ next to his ear. “Louis move.”

He didn’t.

“See? Stubborn little human defying his Alpha.” Edward was smiling but it was vicious, looking only at Harry when he spoke, “Want me to bring him back into line?”

Harry was practically pushing against Louis’ back, as if he forgot he were there every time and was growing frustrated at not wanting to man handle him. Louis whimpered as another growl was felt against across his shoulder blades. “ _Louis_.”

Edward saw this conflict, squinting at Harry’s inability to move Louis even though by all means he absolutely could if he wanted to. “I’m struggling to figure who is the one in charge here.”

“You want me to prove myself to you Brother?” Edward continued, all matter of fact and confident as if he wasn’t two seconds away from being impaled on a fist. “You want me to show you how nothing I speak of is a _lie?_ ”

“Amuse me.” Harry’s voice had dipped and until there was an elucidation it wasn’t going to lift.

Edward shifted, one foot in front of the other and now it was Louis’ turn to push back into Harry, whimpering at the approaching form and the hand on his waist. “I need a phone.”

“You have a phone.”

“ _Did_.” Edward corrected, “It was compromised during our scuffle.”

Now Harry set both hands on Louis, moving him quietly and carefully so he were away from Edward, the Alpha however not seeming to care about him as he accepted Harry’s phone and started tapping on his screen. Harry watched him and not his hands, breath deep, body ready to deflect.

Edward blinked lazily as he lifted the phone to his ear, winked, “I’ve hidden your number.”

It was a few seconds of silence, Louis not having the tiniest idea what was happening or why when Harry pushed him back a little further and Edward spoke again.

“Mum?"

Harry's hand dropped from the side.

"It’s Edward.”

Now Louis swore he could hear Harry’s pulse, or maybe that was just his.

“No I’m using Andy’s phone, mine’s broken he’s getting a new one… yeah I know it’s late over there…” He giggled and joked and Harry begun to shake, Louis shooting a hand onto his instantaneously, the corner of his jaw clenching and unclenching rapidly. He was statuesque, unmoving and pinned to the point.

Edward was still conversing. Casual. Normal. He held Harry’s eye as he pulled the phone away and tapped a button - loudspeaker.

Now it was undeniable and Harry fell to his knees, the same way his Mother did when she came out of the room in the hospital the day Edward was announced dead, sobs wrecking through her, clinging to his Father’s legs. He wasn’t sure what came first, Edward’s slow, blurred decent to a crouch or the sound of his Mother’s laughter filling his ears as his heart thumped and his world blacked out.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters are being posted tonight. Because I feel like this segment of the story lacks any meaty Louis/Harry or Louis/Edward interaction and it can be a lot to get through. Alas, it needs to be done. It's an important turning point. So this here first chapter and the following one are the bulk of it; things must go downhill for them to come back up. But I promise after these two things will start to get a little... well, you'll see.

**\- Three and a half years previous -**

 

_“But your son will know many a woe, my Lady,” The woman was decrepit, half her torso almost folding in half as she sat in her armchair, calm yet concerned by Anne’s clear lack of remorse for what she was asking of her, “Surely you must want him to be prepared?”_

“ _No.”_

_Her voice was thunderous, the spawn of spite and a resoluteness that shouldn’t come so easy to a Mother. She wasn’t prepared to corner an elderly woman into submission but she wasn’t going to leave without getting her way either._

_“Madame, please, if I may. You must understand the danger you are putting him in by changing the prophecy. I have never been asked of such a thing before and I must question the reasons as to why you would want to bring such misery and uncertainty to your own blood?”_

_Anne, a reputable Alpha, leant forward and swiped the prophet’s obsessions from the table, something heavy landing with a thud. She spread two firm hands and leant further into them, eyes a swirling mix of emerald and amber, not to be contested. “You will know not of my reasoning, you will only do what I ask.”_

_The old lady was hesitant, not quite scared of Anne but not wanting to make an enemy of a dignitary. She was filled with a great sadness as she fell to the request, “Be that as it may.”_

_Anne nodded, came back to a stand and went back to inspecting the mantelpiece. It was full of trinkets, a golden goblet with a ruby fixed to the centre of the spine and photo frames with aged photographs, faded blank ink scrawled at the bottom. “I know you must think of me as a wretched Mother, Merdulin. And perhaps you are right, to some degree.” She placed one back down and turned to face her again, the flickering orange light from the oil lanterns around the room giving them both a dusty glow, “Sometimes you have to be evil to be kind, malicious to one to save another. I cannot have our people lorded over by a ticking time bomb. If I let the empire be taken over by someone who has no control, no remorse, no love for another, then I may as well kill each and every one of them myself.”_

_“With all respect, forgive me, he is your last standing heir.” She approached it gently, dabbing the tip of her pen in the ink pot, “With his brother’s unfortunate decease.”_

_She had no opinion on the young Alpha’s character, only knew of his rabid temperaments from hear say. She was not one to judge despite the word being harsh against him, but she did not see any fit reason - not even that, to bring a ruckus like this to his life._

_Anne fell silent, she didn’t appear to draw any emotion or response when she flitted her gaze over the parchment upon the prophet’s lap, “Just finish the verse.”_

 

**-Present Day-**

 

“I don’t understand.”

Edward had repeated himself several times in the past few minutes.

After Louis endured the excruciating ordeal of trying to bring Harry back around and listening to Edward talk to Anne as if there were no alarm brought on by it. He’d hung up and stood up. Peered down at his twin and his attentive little human, small, dainty proportions were more than apparent looking at him knelt next to Harry’s still body on the floor. He was wrecked by sobs he couldn’t contain, hands gripping the side of Harry’s unresponsive face, shaking, begging for him to come round.

“I don’t…” Edward couldn’t finish. It were one of the most misplaced characteristics on someone of his nature but he couldn’t fetch himself to finish that sentence.

It’d been around fifteen, twenty minutes or so since he’d hung up.

Harry’s consciousness was reignited about ten minutes in and he hasn’t said a damn word since. Louis’d escorted him from the kitchen floor to the couch with Edward’s help. He was hesitant to let him touch him at first but realised his strength was much needed to manoeuvre a weight like that.

They were all seated now. Harry sat up with his head between his hands, silent. Deathly silent and unmoving with Louis right there at his side, eyes raw from tears, chewing the inside of his mouth to a degree of self destruction.

Edward was sat on the back of the armchair, one leg swung over the top.

He hadn’t expected this reaction.

He’d expected Harry to be shocked obviously, surprised at the extent of the betrayal that had taken place so fluidly under his nose within the safety net of his own family where all things should be loyal and good. But bitter mostly, at the fact things haven’t and were definitely not going to work out the way he’d planned.

But there was no bitterness to be basked in. Since Edward’s arrival Harry had done nothing but deflect his statements - each and everyone of them, right from the very start. He’d been consistent with his denials, to the bone and open. He’d reiterated how much he loved Edward _still_ , even after he had tried heartlessly to take what he considers most dear. Even after he had no regard about inflicting pain upon himself he was exhausting himself trying to bring Edward to sense. It was one thing to feign sadness but for him to be this trodden by it all, so physically jaded from the news - that would take a considerable amount of effort.

The past fifteen, twenty minutes had been a spiralling point of reflect for all three of them.

Realities were being smudged, flipped and fucked right out of them. Loyalties had been burnt. And presumptions had been cast aside, dwindled until they were nothing but a representation of their own self doubt.

Edward stood up and as if it were on a hook, Harry’s head rose with him.

Edward thought twice about speaking, the first time he’d second guessed anything in a long time. Seeing those blood-shot eyes, the dark circles beneath, the exhausted gait to his breath that conveyed a constant level of pain. He stared at his Brother and said nothing.

“Why.”

Louis was tucked up next to him, uncurling a touch at the sound of Harry’s croak. It was aimed at Edward and he did nothing but stare, frozen by that reality check still settling. He doubted this would ever fully settle.

Louis squeezed his bicep, the toughened muscle so tense despite being stationary. “ _Why_  have you done this?”

Even Edward struggled. The hardened one; the twin that always lacked the empathy where others would gasp and scorn his harsh manner, couldn’t quite cope with the inexplicable hurt in his voice. “Brother.”

He was quicker now, having founded his voice, darker. “You dare call me that after what you’ve done?”

For the first time also in a very long time, Edward felt like a coward.

“I only knew what I were being told.”

Harry was up and Louis knew there was no use in even trying, lips quivering, “ _You knew me_.”

“I -,” Edward swallowed, throat closing up, “I know.”

“You knew me for fifteen years Edward. Did it mean nothing? You think I would ever want to hurt you like this? You think I would want to kill my own brother so I could take some _fucking_ throne?” He was shaking, rage barrelling through his veins, “ _You think I would do that to my own fucking Brother!_ ”

The air shook with his words, each one like a precision aimed punch to Edward’s gut.

Louis had curled back even more, eyes so bleary the twins were nothing but dark opposing figures. He was so sad. So very sad. Nothing anyone could say was going to help this, not even the pleasant refuge that came with Louis’ touch, not the promise of an extension to his family that Louis brought with his existence, nothing could sooth over this. This was going to be long and painful and the pain was demanding.

Harry sat back down slowly. He blinked once and a tear escaped. Sniffing he wiped it away with the back of his hand, bringing his elbows to rest on his knees, his hands coming together before his mouth.

“You were a whirlwind to grow up with, Harry.”

Louis was scornful. He didn’t know how he was daring to insult him, not now, not after-

“Your lust for a solo rein wasn’t the most difficult thing to believe. You roughed me up so many times - fractured bones and afflictions that scarred, too many sleepless nights spent fearing the next outburst,” Edward was vocal now. He was honest and it hurt. “You knew your power.”

“Piss off.”

“ _Harry_.” Edward bit back, knew he was edging his bets but this was too important to go unheard. “You fucking know you were over powering - physically. Not much has changed.”

“So you think,” Harry laughed, scrubbing his forehead with his thumb so hard it left a loud mark, “an inclination towards being unable to control my temper automatically meant I wanted you _dead?_ That I would prefer to spend a lifetime without you, miserable and angry rather than have you there to take on the family name together?”

“All I’m saying, is it wasn’t that hard to believe you would want solitude.”

A sound started that was small, right a the back of his throat but grew quickly, loud and strained as he scrubbed his face muffling the latter, “Why has all of this been revolving around you fucking defending yourself?”

The other Alpha stood motionless, fingers working the single silver band around his middle finger as his head buzzed.

Harry was impatient, “ _Huh?_ ” He prompted.

“Because with all due respect this is just as much a revelation for me as it is for you. And I’m trying to make sense of it, for both of us.”

And that was all there was to be said. Harry wrung his hands together, stared at them.

This new, agonising reality coming to rest upon all their lives, came with the other truths that none had yet addressed. Not only had Harry lived with the guilt, the burden of thinking he’d taken his brother’s life, but Edward had lived for five years in anguish and solitude, isolated from his family. Thinking all this time, fed information to believe for all those years that he’d wanted to do it. That Harry had continued life with no remorse.

Why?

Because of the two people they thought would never defile them. The roots to their existence, the rocks to which they’d depended on and grown.

“And Mother told you all of this.”

Edward’s stomach twisted with something he hadn’t felt in a while. “Yes.”

“Father?”

Edward’s silence awarded him the answer he dreaded.

He hung his head and nearly tore his hair from the roots, growling, crying out so loud Louis covered his ears and screwed his face. Harry soon fell quiet but his scream lived on, hung and rotating around them like tiny suspended shards of glass.

Everything Edward had told him last night was true.

The story Harry thought cruel and incredibly dramatic of him to conjure, that their parents had feigned his death as punishment for his ungovernable rage. That she thought him selfish for the pain he’d caused throughout his short life. His own mother regarded him as lucky to have gotten away with what he had, that she and her Father had no idea of how to control him when he had such outbursts and left chaos in his wake, overtime all of which went undisciplined. It was time for Harry to learn the consequences of his actions - having him believe that his reckless violence had taken his Brother’s life was the biggest of all. Edward explained how they’d paid off the doctor, sworn him to secrecy albeit his own family’s welfare on the line if he dared divulge.

At this point Harry’d warned him from spewing any more of his bile, but he continued after downing his whiskey, speaking of how his Mother recalled how Harry’d acted remorseful in the public eye but had spoken of his relief to higher members of the pack, thinking he were away from prying ears when he laid reasons for being the solo heir. How he’d threatened their lives if they were to reveal any of it to the rest.

“Harry,” Louis was sat forward, lips moving against his shoulder, “ _I’m so sorry_. I’m so, so sorry,”

He didn’t need to hear that. He didn’t know what he wanted or what he needed right now, but Louis was on him anyway, hands running up and down his back, feeling the knots in his tightly bound muscles along the way. He collected Harry around his neck from the back and leant into his warmth, able to provide nothing else but his presence as Harry worked through the small and raspy sobs shattering his torso.

Every little thing Edward had told him, slurred within the inescapable honest vines of alcohol, was true. Everything that sounded too dragged out, too sick to hold any sliver of truth.

What was left of the afternoon dragged on for it’s final hour, silent and cold.

The evening came to be and they were still sat there at seven, Louis having drifted off into a sleep curled against his Alpha’s chest on the sofa.

What care he’d held over Edward’s whereabouts just wasn’t there anymore. He’d drifted off regardless, understandably exhausted, concerned only about keeping Louis near him as an arm secured him to the inside of the couch while he occupied the rest.

The other had remained wide awake. He still had Harry’s phone and was bouncing it on his thigh, seated in the couch where Louis’ nest was still arranged. That sweet scent of his - Edward couldn’t figure how a human managed to carry something so lovely - was laid heavy there, along with Harry’s. Now he could taste them together, the two merged really was quite something.

As it were still unlocked, Edward had flitted through his photographs. Not for the will to invade his privacy, just to see a familiar face or two.

And for all he was worth he wished he hadn’t.

Harry’s photo library wasn’t exactly extensive but it were rich. Quality over quantity at its finest. He scrolled through a couple of snapshots Louis had clearly taken of them both from the angle, lingering over an amusing one of Harry holding a rose between his teeth with a ridiculous quirk to his eyebrows. But then he saw a candid photo of a girl, blonde, two years his senior. She was laughing and happy, slightly blurred in its focus but good enough. Clear enough to see the sharp nose they shared, the defined jaw.

He ran a thumb over her face, allowing a private tear to dwell in the corner of his eye.

He lost all ability to move when the screen went black and her name appeared at the top.

Looking at his company’s slumbering state he was struck dumb. He hadn’t heard her voice in five years, hadn’t seen her either yet there she was, buzzing to life in the centre of his palm and he was idle.

Sitting up straight he watched the line ring, staring at her name as if he feared he’d forget it, until it disappeared and he let go of his breath, back slumping.

Rolling his tongue against the roof of his mouth he didn’t understand the feeling that was birthing in his stomach, the one akin to what he guessed it’d be like if his lungs were tied together, if Harry awoke right now and pinned him down and ordered Louis to choke the last dregs of air from them. All his choices coming back to haunt him. Things taking turns he couldn’t predict, but most probably definitely deserved.

_Remorse._

The phone was ringing again.

He closed his eyes, swiped his thumb and lifted the screen to his ear.

_Gemma: Harry?_

Edward was the proud new owner of lock-jaw.

_G: …Hello? -oh my god, if this signal has fucked up again I swear-_

He tried to dampen a chuckle. “Gemma?”

_G: Oh thank fuck, hi. You alright?_

“Yeah.” He was smiling at nothing. “You?”

_G: Great yeah, Zayn’s pissing about but nothing I can’t handle. Think he’s missing Louis. It’s weird, you’d think they were dating instead._

She giggled and Edward had forgotten what happiness sounded like, her voice a little more grown up and rasped in the years it had aged. He nodded, realising she can’t see him and looked at Harry shuffling, his arm tightening around Louis. His initial response was a protective one of course, immediately realising this Zayn must be her boyfriend and it mattered not that she were two years older they were always going to be the protective Brothers whether she approved or not. But of course he couldn’t pry. Not yet.

“Yeah he’s missing him too.”

This was bad.

_G: You two getting along alright then? He’s not in ear shot is he?_

“Nah, no.” He looked at the parts of Louis he could tucked up to into the shield of his boyfriend, “he’s er…,” Fuck. “ _Fuck_.”

_G: Harry?_

Edward was staring at the table, the room service menu discarded on the table top. He closed his eyes.

_G: You there?_

He nodded, again remembering he needed words for Gemma to hear that, “Yes, I’m here.”

For a moment she didn’t speak either and it were weird, Edward not knowing what to say when she did and growing uncomfortable when she drew back.

_G: Are you alone, Brother?_

Edward hummed, suddenly taking a dislike to his own gruff voice when paired with her angelic tone. She made a noise that sounded like she knew.

_G: Is this about Edward?_

His eyes were wide open then though, looking to Harry with his heart pounding against his ribcage, “What?”

_G: You know, being in London. The last time you were there…_

Lord above or the fire below, whichever he deserved he’d swear to both he’d never felt a pain like this before.

_G: I know why you wanted to go there, for Louis, I know. But I also know how hard it must be for you. Being there, the memory of it. Is that why you’re quiet? Have you spoken to Louis about it yet? Oh god. You haven’t argued have you?_

The tears were real. A shock, truly. Fully convinced they’d dried up years ago. He pinched the bridge of his nose and took a breath, wanting to grip a little tighter and keep going until he caused the bone to break and rupture his brain. “Look I er, I have to hustle, Gem,” He didn’t feel worthy of her lifting her name on his tongue, “Louis’ here now, I’ll - we’ll talk later.”

Gemma huffed through the phone, Edward growing rigid when he thought he heard her sniff through a sob.

_G: Goodness, you’re even talking like him._

Shit.

“I am?”

Shit, shit, shit.

_G: Gotta hustle?_

“Oh right, shit.” This was a bad idea. He should have never answered the phone, he should’ve known this was too much too soon. And now she wasn’t saying anything and he didn’t know what to do.

_G: I miss him Harry._

She was definitely crying.

_G: I miss him so much._

Edward thumbed away a tear that reached his upper lip and caught the movement in the corner of his eye - Harry.

He rolled his lips and nodded, again, “I love you.”

He hung up before two wretched things happened: he blurts something he shouldn’t at the sound of her sobs, the thought wearing him down to the Brother he will always be, or, Harry speaks up before either of them hang up and equally, it’s blown.

Staring at the home screen with a loose jaw, he sniffed and turned away from his stirring Brother. He was sure that mumble was his name though.

“I’m here,” Edward responded, standing up and wiping away the tracks of his tears with his t-shirt- _Harry’s_ t-shirt turning away from the area, “m’here.”

Finding himself in the kitchen he did the first thing that made sense and filled the kettle, bypassing the whiskey tumblers that were still there next to the discarded bottle. That shit was some royal poison. They’d washed it down in no time which now on reflection wasn’t their wisest combined decision. He flicked the kettle and leant into his hands, facing it, hearing it gobble and hiss, then gradually rise until it were a singular searing sound he could close his eyes to.

He didn’t know how long he were stood there until a familiar scent invaded his pause and he turned to see his duplicate, in all his glory, tired. His hard edges creased from his nap. The kettle was still high pitched so it must’ve been about a minute. He were looking at him like he wanted to strike, took slow steps up to him and when there was a hand at his neck there was a split second where Edward considered just letting him do it.

“Harry.” It seemed an unfair battle, both weakened, both hurt.

Waiting for this fingers to tighten he was blindsided to the other hand curling around his waist, instantly flinching and looking down to where Harry were coiling him in. “What-,”

But the most fortuitous thing happened. And Edward’s muscles stiffened as he were pulled forward and their bodies came together steadily.

The hand that were securing his neck shifted to his nape, fingers spreading wide, an iron hold as their faces pushed against the other, their torsos flat and adjoined, their scents fusing, habitual and safe. How it should be.

It took a beat but Edward snaked his hands up and around the expanse of Harry’s back, testing this was actually happening, then gripped the sweatshirt, squeezing him inward to an impossible proximity. Harry even huffed from the pressure, but Edward continued, surprised at his Brother’s raptured affection.

This time yesterday, none of this would’ve seemed possible.

This time yesterday, they shared nothing but blood.

But that was then and this is now. And the shock of their realities being previously worlds apart now slowly realigning and becoming one again, was being absorbed in that embrace. There was an urgency to it. A deprivation that was finally getting quenched.

“I’m not your enemy.” Harry’s voice was muffled but clear to Edward’s ear, he clapped his back and held him tight, “Ever.”

Edward pushed him away with hands still clutching at his biceps. His thumbs pinning them there for a little longer before it passed, in case he woke up in the next few seconds to the sickening blow that none of this was real. It was hard to accept that it was. Hard to deal with the fact he’d been wrong for so long, been starved of his Brother’s love over a time he can never recover. Harder to believe that their parents have been the puppet masters throughout. After all this time and they were both the innocent.

“Alpha?”

Both boys turned in response and Louis dipped his head, suddenly coy.

He was stood with Harry’s phone in his hand, “You have a text.”

It was an undeniable pleasure to see the two Brothers like that, Louis having taken a second before interrupting to ruin the purest moment they’ve shared yet. He considered hiding his phone and forgetting about it altogether but the pain would still be there in a couple of hours, still there in the morning. He’d have to face it eventually.

Wiping his eyes Harry collected his phone, ducking to kiss Louis’ lips.

Edward was alert from the look on his face, bracing himself as Harry read out loud and Louis squeezed his hip.

 ** _Mother: Sweetheart. Gemma has just come to me in tears. Talk to me_**.

 

*

 

Harry cancelled the flights that were due to bring them home the next day but one, brought them forward to that evening. Although they’d rekindled things were still raw. He didn’t trust Edward not to run off without cause, never to be seen again. He’d got his Brother back and wasn’t prepared to lose him again so he wanted to leave England to take him back home. What happened when they got there, well, he wasn’t so sure.

An SUV was to be hired so they could have room on the journey to the airport. Despite everything Harry didn’t want Louis having to be sat any closer to Edward than he had to be, the trauma too soon to be flattened out and forgiven just yet. He was at ease with him as an Alpha but Edward were a different case. The forty minute journey was a quiet one, Edward staring out the window in a silent guard while Harry held onto Louis throughout, whispering in his ear, kissing and squeezing his hand. This trip had turned on its head and Louis hadn’t asked for any of it, could’ve backed out and ran away from him and the ruin of his life but he didn’t; he stayed and Harry’s guilt was through the roof.

They had the genetics to heal fast, Louis didn’t. Placing him on a plane for seven hours where he could acquire some lengthy rest at long last was another driving force behind his decision.

The pilot had to be flown in from France within the hour, Harry would pay him extra for the inconvenience. He was a family friend and he needed someone who knew them to accept Edward’s boarding without a passport. Also, someone whom he could trust.

Bewildered from the news, the Pilot was unable process it over the phone, knew he shouldn’t press, but couldn’t quite help himself.

Harry grew impatient under pressure, “I need people who can operate under complete discretion.”

“Of course, sir, of course,” He’d answered, aghast and feeling a little cold to the bone. “It’s just - well it’s a lot to take in you appreciate.”

“Connor if this slips,” The pause was pregnant, but Harry birthed it anyway, “-If this slips I’ll take more than your job.”

Louis had overheard him at this point and were bristled by his threat, the callousness seeming a harsh colouring on him. Edward just smiled, proud.

“You have my word, Alpha.”

They were on board by a half past nine that evening.

Another advantage of flying out so early were the time difference; they’d arrive home somewhere within the hour of ten on Thursday morning, he knew the house’s schedule - his Father would be in the city for business, his Mother would be out with the Ridley’s again for the estate renovation and he recalls Gemma telling him she was _‘shitting’_ about a presentation she had to give to a new class at nine so the house would be empty.

He just had to hope the pack weren’t milling around, mid-week in the AM, they should all be at school or college. If they weren’t Harry wanted to know why.

They were two hours away from landing and Harry had looked up from poking his oatmeal to find Edward finally coming around from his rest, surprised he had any snoozing left in him from the sedative knocking him out for a good measure of time earlier.

“Morning,” His greeting was washed down with a gulp of black coffee, peering at his Brother rolling out from the bed.

Edward tipped his chin and stayed like that, sat on the edge for a second, looking over to the mattress on the other side of the aircraft at an odd angle, where Louis were tucked up and asleep. Harry grew uncomfortable with the length of time he had eyes there, knowing what that look meant. He stirred his meal slowly, blowing away the steam.

If he held that stare for much longer-

“Out cold?”

Harry didn’t realise he were gripping the spoon so tight, clearing the thorn from his throat and nodding, “Yeah, not long after you.”

Edward hummed, turning his head until there was a muffled crunch. “Fucking bed’s terrible.”

“For a couple hundred thousand you’d think they’d install better.” Harry agreed, scooping up another spoon of his bowl while his mind thew back to the journey here, when they found the bed more than sufficient as Harry devoured the virtuous offering between Louis’ thighs.

Edward was in his underwear and nothing else. And it wasn’t like Harry wasn’t used to his own body, he was just going to find it difficult seeing it like this again. Five years later, post puberty and pre fully grown. He eyed up his long legs, toned with sporadic hair dusting across his thighs, thicker along his calves. As he stretched his gaze followed the bulk of his abdomen, the display of ribs as his skin pulled. Same strong chest and sturdy shoulders - their balance of power derives from their torso.

“Smells nice,” He padded over to Harry, nonchalant. The alpha made a point of looking up at him slowly, in the hope he’d realise how close he were to his crotch. Ignorance was at large however, Edward seizing the spoon from the other setting and stole a scoop from his bowl. He nodded, smacking his lips together and buzzed the attendance button.

The woman was straightening her tailored jacket as the door slid to the side. But when she stepped in was instantly flustered, eyes darting to Edward’s crotch and back again almost apologetically, “Um-,”

“I’ll have whatever that is,” He motioned to the bowl. “Some coffee too, please.”

Louis whined in the background and it brought Edward to a weird plateau again, turning to see him stirring gently. He were punching the inside of his covers as he stretched his arms up and out. Harry was already on it, wanting to be there the moment he woke and Edward just watched him rush up to his side to coo over him like a baby.

“Yes Sir, uh,” She obliged, blushing and stepping back, not entirely sure where to put herself. Or her eyes. “Right away.”

Perhaps he was so used to being alone that his half naked state meant nothing to him. The idea of social conduct having slightly slipped in these past years. It were a humorous yet sore thought, Harry concluded, turning and telling him to cover his decency.

 

*

 

“No you need to step back.”

Turns out his champion plan didn’t pan out. Gemma was home.

“But you’re scaring me,” She peered over his shoulders at the car parked outside, a private hire. “Where’s Louis?”

He ignored her questioning and brought the front door to a close, pushing her gently backwards to make room.

After all he’d learnt he felt an intruder in his own home.

“ _Harry_.”

Immediately she assumed the worst scenario. Or what, in her blissfully ignorant world, was the worst. She followed him around the foyer where he paced, scenting the air. She had accusing eyes, trailing down his long legs, up to a loosely buttoned denim-blue shirt.

“Harry.”

“He’s fine.” He removed his fedora and ruffled his hair, pushed it back and sighed, “We’re alone then?”

“Yes we’re al- _Harry what the fuck is going on?_ ” She wasn’t cranky, just unnerved. Well acquainted with her Brother and his ways that she could sense the dread oozing from his pores. “Last night you were on the phone hardly saying a word, hang up after barely a minute and now you’re here. _Two_ days early,” She pointed to the door, “with a rental car and a look in your eye that tells me you’re going to ask me to help you hide a body.”

He’d missed her.

“Gemma,” He started again, his tone already making her want to back away, “I need you to listen to me.”

“Well if you spit it out.”

He’d been in there for thirty seconds and she was already expecting a written report. He dismissed her cleverness and walked her over the foot of the stairs, insisting she sat down.

“Styles. Talk to me.” She was cocking her head and looking at him like he were her child. “If you don’t start talking in the next second I swear I’ll suffocate you with that hat.”

If it were difficult to process in London, it were twice as difficult now he were back here with his Sister, someone who shared Edward with him. Someone who meant just as much to him. It was all becoming very real and he found himself sitting right down next to her, succumbing to a sudden effort it took to remain vertical.

He held the fedora towards him, reshaping it before setting it down carefully on the marble step. “In about thirty seconds you’re going to want to throttle me.”

“That’s nothing new-,”

“No, listen.” There wasn’t a jesting flicker to his voice so Gemma knew her cue to pull back. “You’ll want to yell at me. You’ll think me sick and delusional because what I’m saying is so repugnant you’ll want it to be anything but the truth.”

There was something moving outside, the wind picking up around the shrubs he hoped. The pressure down there was greater than what it were standing and he were on his feet, unsure as to where he should be when he says it.

He turns on his heels, a hand on his hip, a breath taken to speak but nothing came out and his mouth shut along with his eyes.

“I know this because it’s exactly how I felt when I first heard it.”

Gemma waited. She was sweet and patient with bony hands folded in her lap, the sound of her sibling’s heartbeat bouncing off her own in a matched haste. “Okay.”

He knew the minute he opened his eyes he was just going to have to say it because it was still going to be real and Edward was still going to be alive and Louis was still going to be the love of his life and his parents were still going to have betrayed him. And Gemma was going to hate him.

“Edward’s alive.”

The rustling outside was growing, the wind their minds the house their bodies. Themselves the hearts beating as one. Long broken.

Gemma didn’t move. She didn’t blink. Her mind casting a blank. She looked awfully ghost-like, still and pale on the bottom step with her hair down loose and her eyes wide. The marble of the steps almost merged with her milky skin.

In the spirit of ripping the band aid off, Harry threw caution to the wind.

“And Mum and Dad knew.”

This was the worst part. Right here, this was it. This was the part where things were going to be so up in the air and new and he’s going to be juggling her wanting to lash out and cry in denial and it will be horrible but then it will settle because he will explain when she allows him to and nothing will be okay but it will have subsided. It has to because that’s how storms go and that’s what this is. That’s what he always has been and always will be; charging through life leaving upheaval and suffering in his wake.

That’s why Mum and Dad hate him.

He can’t save her from this pain, it needs to be felt.

She spoke softly, the front tresses of her hair falling forward with the bow of her head. She sobbed tearlessly into the palms of her hand then looked back up, “Oh God I knew it was a bad idea you going to London.”

“This-,” Harry brandished a hand, shook his head, “no this isn’t about London.”

She was coming towards him, dabbing her mouth with her hand, gliding almost, “When we spoke last night I knew- _I knew it_ ,”

“Gemma.”

“But no, Mum and Dad insisted you’d be fine, said Louis would be a good distraction…”

“Gemma.”

She was biting her lips, securing his strong jaw within her cold hands, “Shh, it’s okay. We’re going to get through this.”

He dwarfed her hands with his own, “Gem.”

Tiptoeing she kissed his cheek, her lashes wet from the tears she’d shed so quickly, as if the dam had burst from looking at the expression on her poor Brother’s face.

She was too occupied with curling her arms around his torso, mumbling about him getting the help he really needs that she missed the door reopening. Harry didn’t, running open palms down her back and angling them gently so she were facing away from it.

Edward had gotten restless. He was stood in the doorway, a hand resting on the handle. He hadn’t banked on being so overwhelmed by the heady oak of the interior and the mixed scents that loitered from several members of their pack. Their parents in there too.

Then he breathed, stormy eyes resting on his siblings in the flesh.

Harry nodded to him and Edward closed the door, a little more force behind it compared to the opening.

Slowly, Gemma’s muttering tittered off and her embrace loosened. She pulled back with a blotchy face, eyes glazed over with the tears she’d yet to release and arched her neck at an eventual pace to meet his eye.

Everything that needed to be said was in that one look before he wordlessly turned her by the arms slowly, a strong anchor if she needed it, aware of the turmoil that was about to be cast upon their lives forever. No buffer to lessen the blow and no turning back. No escaping reality.

He felt the tremor wrack her bones as she tensed, “ _Edward_.”


	19. Chapter 19

Louis was escorted back to his home that afternoon and left there with strict instruction he’d be picked up again in the evening. He knew the binding he would have when engaged in a relation with Harry and this would be the first step. He were his now and that placed him officially in the firing line. Until the twins could gather more information on what was happening Harry wanted him under his constant guard.

His Father was on a late shift at the hospital so he wouldn't be back for another couple of hours, but he didn't have to wait long for his Mother to return home from collecting Daisy from daycare.

“Darling,” She smiled, balancing his little sister on her hip as she squee’d his name, “Oh darling you’re home earl…” He’d forgotten about the marking on his face, the less violent but still prominent bruising to his neck, “ _what has he done to you-_ ,"

He were quick to disarm her and reassured her over and over that he was genuinely okay. Daisy started crying from their stressed voices, not understanding why her Mom was so furious and Louis’ face was scratched and ‘ _hurted_ ’. When she plopped her in front of the television, Louis dove into an explanation. Right from the start, not missing anything out from the moment they landed on British soil to this second right here and now.

It came as a terrifying surprise that she actually listened - moreover cared. She gasped in all the right places and even grew glossy eyed when he got to the part when they were hugging in the kitchen.

Here be the woman who wanted to kill their blood line, now _overjoyed_ that they’d gained an addition that were thought lost.

"Gosh," She pushed out a shaky breath, "goodness gracious, do you remember what that lady? At the dinner?"

He did remember.

“Oh but honey no,” He knew this would be a sting, “no you can’t go there, you can’t get involved.”

“But I _am_ involved.”

By extension so were they. Louis was Harry’s - he could never see it the same way again thanks to Roman - mate. By afar. He knew it, Harry knew it. Sort of have from the beginning. He was legal now and it’d take a fool to deny the connection they share. There had been many a nights, before Harry knew about Louis’ family, that the Alpha had schmoozed that he could see them together for a long time and to anyone else it sounded like a love struck teenager but Louis knew it were as serious as a proposal. He’d agree, kissing his nose then telling him to _man up_.

Edward had known about Louis. He’d had intelligence on him before he made himself known which means Harry’s parents had informed him. He were a pawn in their plans no matter how small. His presence matters to whatever they have their minds set on achieving therefore merely by being Harry’s beau Louis is very much involved.

“You cannot expect us to allow you to live under a roof full of those creatures,”

“ _Those creatures_ , are nothing what you say they are.”

The _plus I’m eighteen now and can do as I please_ was hung between them silently unsaid but heavily implied.

She sidestepped it, waving her hand, “Louis it’s final. You’re more safe here than there.”

She had no idea. “I’m really not.”

“They’re _dangerous_.”

They're fucking terrifying. Louis digressed, “They’re not the monsters you think they are.”

If Harry’s parents had managed to pull this off right underneath his nose, then what were they - _mere humans_ going to do to protect themselves and Louis from them when they come knocking. And they will. When they come home to find their daughter gone, their pack too. When they get wind of the news and realise their five year plan has come to spectacular cliff edge.

“I cannot allow you, my _Son_ , to go off to live with a bunch of wolves.” She shook her head standing up from the dining table, the thought going round and round in her head in a tizzy, “It’s ludicrous.”

What’s ludicrous is how she’s suddenly concerned about his safety when before they’ve both been more than willing to put him out as live bate just to try catch Harry out. Louis scoffed, “Mom-,”

“ _No_.”

“Do you even realise the severity of this?”

She hadn’t drifted far, was leant on the chair, “Precisely Louis, which is why I want you here and away from that bunch of freaks. Where I can keep an eye on you.”

“Okay so when they come here looking for you,” Louis dragged his fingers across the table, using it as his map, “When Harry’s parents get back and realise oh, shit, our plan’s failed. And _all_ our pack have rallied with him and Edward. What do you think they’re gonna do Mom? Go to the house? March right into the eye of the storm? No. They’re going to get to them by outside avenues, _here_. They’re going to try and finish the job they set out to do and come straight here.”

She was looking at him like she’d never looked at him before. It appeared her Son had grown up too fast and there was nothing she could do about it. He was right and she was wrong. He were kind, despite their teachings, compassionate and wise. Above all she felt for him, envy was something she least expected.

“You’re right.” She whispered.

Louis thought he’d imagined it.

“Strength is in numbers.” She said, her voice not giving way to the weep that begged just yet.

Strength was definitely in numbers. Although now the twins were reunited, it wasn’t a doubt in anyone’s mind that they were a force by themselves never mind the rest.

 

*

 

In the hours granted to him with Louis’ absence, Harry had rallied the native pack. He’d contacted them all individually and made sure they were to be at the pack house not a minute past nine, no detours, no nothing. The time was drawing to a close where he’d have to execute the damage and break the news to them too.

The only blessing, was he had Gemma by his side to do it with. The shock was absorbed between the two of them, the three of them.

Two hours of sitting and crying and Gemma still repeated the same sentence by the end of it: “ _I can’t believe it- I can’t believe you’re here_.”

After running away from first laying eyes on Edward in the lobby, Harry had chased her down to the pool. The warm air and echo not helping when she cried relentlessly with a white wash face for him to stay away from her.

She slapped Edward when he came within two feet.

He didn’t react. He was patient and caught her wrist when she tried again, tugging her into him and holding her there until she submitted and melted into his chest.

The shock, like Harry’d hoped, subsided quickly. She was definitely a Styles. Harry and Edward took turns in explaining everything that had happened and she didn’t interrupt once, just let them speak all the while her eyes drifting off to Edward to find a new detail she’d missed the last time. She soaked up the information fast. You would never know her heart was shattered into a million pieces from her togetherness, looking like she was discussing financial issues over an in-house exhibition of disloyalty.

“We need to gather the others,” She suggested what the twins had spent the car ride there discussing, the two boys side eyeing each other as she pushed on, “they need to know what’s happening before our parents get to them.”

Her chest pinched at the term ‘ _parents_ ’.

"It's going to be okay."

A sentence spoken into the space between them, none sure of whether it was affirming or questioning. 

She covered her mouth, creasing her eyes to try and conceal the pain. " _I can't believe this is happening_."

In two hours she’d had to learn that not only is her younger Brother alive but her only blood given parents are viciously twisted. Two hours of regaining a sibling, setting them up for a lifetime of adjusting to the loss of their Mother and Father.

 

*

 

“Styles.”

Less of a greeting, more of a sort of announcement. Louis’ Dad stood tall in the doorway, peering down his nose at the boy stood a foot below on the path.

“Evening Sir.” The tension, beyond palpable was brushed aside when Harry pushed back the hood on his shearling jacket and presented his hand, which he waited politely until the man slowly took it. “May I?”

Once inside Harry recalled the last and only time he were here. His eyes being drawn immediately down the corridor to the kitchen and the cabinet where he had Louis held against. His mind hadn’t played any tricks on him since that day. In fact, this were the first time he’d thought about his hallucinations in weeks.

He turned, trying his best to remain polite before the man who he knows wishes for nothing less than his death. “Louis?”

“He’s upstairs with his Mother, look _kid._ ” Mark was the Alpha of this household. Not Harry. At least that’s what he thought. “I know what you’re doing, I know you think you’re going to win him over but it’s not going to work.”

From the past forty-eight hours of his life, Doctor Tomlinson were nothing but a furry spec of an inconvenience. The fact that his sole purpose outside his professional working life was to hunt down and eradicate his species was not a threat but perhaps an advantage now, especially given his bloodline topped that hit list.

Harry remained silent, squinted at the oddly slender man squaring up to him in the middle of the hallway that Harry’d remembered thinking was far too small the first time he were in it. Really looking at him now he saw nothing of Louis in him; his eyes, nose, bone structure were all from his Mother. Even his colouring. Mark’s face was decisively narrow with a unattractive crook to his nose.

“All I want for your Son, Sir, is to protect him.”

“ _Oh fuck off,_ ” He spat, face red already, “I know exactly what you want.”

Harry raised an eyebrow, ears pricking at the small thud above their heads, “Really?”

Mark leant in, breath laced with coffee and liquor, “You lay a single fucking finger on him and I’ll wipe you and your undead twin out faster than you can scream for your mommy.”

Harry thought he disgraced the human race. A sad fact that this were the man who many people look to in times of dire need, sometimes in their last moments. Such an honourable role for a deceivingly vile creature. Harry’s situation mattered not to him, no basic empathy for someone who was in the middle of having their life turned upside down, just hatred.

Graciously calm Harry rolled his lips, watching the vein in his forehead that appeared fit to pop when the front door was nearly torn off of it’s hinges.

“I told you to wait in the car.” Harry winced at the cutting rope of wind he brought in with him.

“I’ve spent five fucking years waiting, can’t do much more.” Edward shouldered himself into the narrow hallway, throwing a look at Harry then to Mark, squeezing between the two of them. He gave the man a once over, chewing around some gum casually before scoffing, “So you’re the puppy killer.”

He swung himself around the banister to thunder up the stairs two steps at a time. He didn’t need anything but that sweet scent to guide him to Louis’ position.

Harry counted down in his head until he heard-

Ah. The shrill cry was the least he expected, Louis’ mother unaware there was even one never mind _two_ wolves under roof.

“Excuse me.”

Ignoring the downright choler turning the Doctor’s face beet red, Harry followed in his footsteps to find Edward zipping up the large suitcase atop his bed and Louis fussing around him. He scraped his hair back, only now seeing the quivering woman in the corner of the room just watching the entire thing unfold.

“Mrs Tomlinson,” He started, but she whimpered and backed away more, “apologies for my Brother he’s a little-,”

“Impatient?” Edward offered swinging a holdall over his shoulder.

Louis went to help him with the case but was left jobless when he saw Edward lift it with one hand, he shot him a look and it caught him off guard. It was the first time he’d actually done such a thing since the plane ride. He’d averted his gaze as if he weren’t even there this whole time, like he maybe wished he wasn’t and was trying to block him out.

Louis stepped back and Edward nodded, “I’ll be outside.”

“Please, let us have a moment-,”

His Mother tried, clearly distressed at the sudden upheaval but was shot down instantly by Edward who didn’t bother stopping when he replied, “He’s moving forty minutes away not forty states.”

Harry could try and apologise for his behaviour, truly he could. But judging from the state of her she would rather he’d just leave than exchange any words with him never mind share the air they breathed. Louis clung onto her tight and Harry twitched the blinds of his window, spotting his Audi still parked outside. He wouldn’t put it past Edward to be a complete dick and drive off.

He heard Louis promise her that it was _just for now._ They both knew that was a lie.

“So, you think this whole agenda against us with be put on hold while we deal with our own family crisis?” Edward remarked, peering over from the passenger seat.

Louis watched two identical profiles look at each other from where he was secured in the back.

Harry shook his head, “Edward.”

“You know how protective these human folk can be,” Edward’s sarcasm was cold, broad shoulders shifting beyond the width of the seat, his shirt creasing, “we have just stolen their _infant_.”

Harry shot Louis a look in the rear view, winding a hand round to grip his knee, “You alright baby?”

Louis squirmed in his seat, the heat from that singular palm making him want more of it. He nodded, releasing his lip from between his teeth. His fingers looked too long bent like over his measly joint and the rings dug in a little uncomfortably but he didn’t mind, needed the comfort that was brought on by his touch.

Edward fell back to being his usual quiet self throughout the journey, even when Harry stopped off for gas and it were just the two of them he said nothing. Checked the time on Harry’s phone that was resting in the cup holder but that was it.

It was hard to grasp that they were technically still running on the same day as which they'd left London. How different things were back there. 

Louis could’ve cried when he got to the pack house and found Liam and Zayn there waiting for him just inside the door. In fact he did, running up to Liam and jumping into his arms, “ _Oh my god, oh my god-_ ,”

Harry left them time to be alone in the first lounge while he asked Edward to help him drop the bags in their bedroom.

The other Alpha froze, eyes fogged, “You’re kidding.”

Harry cursed him to get moving instead of blocking the stairway. He ignored his comment, dropping Louis’ suitcase to the floor at the foot of his bed with a strained sound, leaning back to ease the pressure on his spine.

There was a heavy thud at his side, an even heftier presence in the form of Edward. Still glaring. “There are two beds.”

Harry tried not to laugh, “Well done.”

But Edward stepped in front of him when he tried to exit the room, “Two.”

“You’ve really mastered the art of deduction.”

“Louis, is joining us in our room?”

Harry fell back one step, looking at the two beds. They were huge. Two king size four poster beds that looked small in the master suite, fit for a king. He shouldn’t challenge his Brother but he were confronted by an urge to defend Louis at all costs, “The beds are large enough for two.”

“My concern doesn’t lie around whether you’d be comfortable.”

“Then what?” Harry just about reached his boiling point and swung the door close on an almighty slam which echoed down the outside corridors. Edward didn’t even move, narrowing his gaze.

Both would rather avoid having a bust up on their first night but it was becoming inevitable with the look on Edward’s face, neither looking like they were going to back down without a fight. Harry knew what his problem was but he thought it was better to push it to one side for the sake of getting through bigger issues at present, but it seems this resentment ran deep and Harry was willing to smack it out of him if he had to.

“I’m not sharing a room with him.”

“Why?”

“There is a suitable guest room down-,”

Harry shook his head, “Not a reason.”

“As much as you’ve chosen to spend your life with an infertile human, I have not.”

Edward’s head snapped to the side, the sting of Harry’s palm hot on his cheek.

“That’s your warning.”

There was a malignant sound coming from Edward's chest, keeping his head south.

“You dare speak such vile things of him in or away from my presence again,” Harry angled his jaw up to face him eye to eye and _squeezed_ , “I’ll break this so bountifully, you won’t be able to speak at all.”

Downstairs the commotion went undetected, the pack collected into the back lounge so Louis could have time with his friends. They of course were informed and Gemma had picked them up after the twins alighted to fetch Louis.

Successfully managing to depress themselves with all possible bad outcomes they could collectively conjure, they were sat and slouched in the furniture that was much too cozy for anyone to ever get anything done.

Louis’d fallen in love with it already.

Everywhere inside was dark, the floors throughout the deepest polished wood with mis matched rugs and tribal printed throws. The walls were bordered with 18th century detailing and the only art that hun from the walls were old photographs of their ancestors. It smelt like Christmas - fresh pine and spice. There was a real log fire that had been fired up for them beforehand and Louis was a victim to the flame’s flickering hypnosis.

Zayn sat up so suddenly Louis nearly fell off his chair, “Oh my God.”

Louis gripped his chest, “ _What?_ ”

“You didn’t get to do it.”

His eyes were full of realisation, as if he’d just had an epiphany and needed to get it out.

Louis wasn’t following him, Liam appearing just as lost. “Do what?”

Thank you Liam.

“Sex,” Zayn held out his hand, tutted, “obviously.”

Liam held a hand up to Louis, “I got this,” peered at Zayn, “ _come again_?”

Like it was an atrocity that he even had to explain himself, Zayn uncrossed his legs and painted them a picture, “It was meant to be so romantic and perfect you know? You were finally legal, Harry taking you away to one of the most wonderful cities in the world, alone. In love.” Zayn cooed, “ _Dude_ it was going to be so perfect.”

Liam’s jaw dropped, completely too afraid to even risk stealing a glance at Louis as the corners of his mouth twisted meaning he really, really didn’t want to laugh.

“Right, yeah. Yes. That, is the real tragedy from this trip.” Louis held up a finger, deadpan and direct. “The one _true_ dilemma.”

He could slap him for such dramatic idiocy but found himself laughing instead, and quite hard too, shaking his head at Liam who tried but failed to hold back his own splutter. He didn’t know if he were laughing with him or at the situation. Most likely just hysteria kicking in.

Zayn looked between the pair of them, apparently quite offended, “Well I’m just sayin’,”

“No I’m agreeing with you.” Louis’ eyebrows shot to his hairline, mouth turned down.

Zayn scowled and tucked a cigarette between his lips that came from nowhere, bringing his legs up to cross on the oak table. Before he had chance to locate his lighter, Liam had whipped it straight back out his mouth and tossed it in what he hoped were a trash can. “Thought you quit last week.”

The door creaked open and Louis smiled at Gemma poking her head around, “Hungry?”

Everyone declined but she assured them the food would be ready in about half an hour anyway, told them to help themselves. Her eyes were red and puffy and she appeared far too frail, clinging to Zayn as he collected her at the doorway, kissing her softly.

She pulled away at the sound of two sets of tumbling footsteps behind her, raising her eyebrows, “Everything okay? We heard a bang then it all went quiet.”

Harry’s voice, at least he thought it was, said something about adjustment issues and nothing more. Gemma pecked Zayn and left with the twins to retreat to the back lounge where everyone else were waiting with bated breath for their arrival.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well this is quite long. So incredibly long, that when I proofread it my eyes felt like they were bleeding. Really need to take control of the lengths and tenses, my sincerest apologies.

**\- Fifteen Days Later -**

 

“ _Holy…_ ” Selena gulped, looking beyond Louis to the entrance of the kitchen probably, “mother of sex.”

Louis paused around his spoon frowning. That was not in any way a) language he was used to at this early hour nor b) anything along the lines of what she would usually say. Overall a shy omega, petite and quite lovely. He would call her a-typical of what people expect physically from her kind, but that didn’t mean there was anything mundane or predictable about her. As per rule of the Styles’ packs, she had a sting in her tail if pushed the wrong way.

Louis should get used to hearing such profanities now he were living among the wolves. Having now progressed from harbouring the intense affection of just one to this full immersion into their lives, he soon learnt just how far affection stretched within their kind. Affection and, _sexuality_. The emotional bond was obvious but physical closeness was also encouraged, and he’d often find them cuddling on the couch, or some body part thrown over each other as they lounged. Touch was important. Everyone greeted the twins with a kiss to the cheek or neck regardless of gender; they were drawn to their Alphas like a camp fire. The sexuality was far from a perversion - in fact quite the opposite. Sex and intimacy seemed to have the taboo wiped from their scope; they were openly honest about their desires and this sort of discussion seemed normal. Something raw about it that flustered Louis.

His tongue smacked the bottom of his spoon involuntarily, hand clamping around the handle as his eyes wandered across the far end of the island to one of the approaching said Alphas.

“Good Morning Edward.” She giggled and Louis dragged his spoon out at long lost with a small ‘pop’. He regarded her strangely and then Edward coming up behind her.

He muttered something that made her giggle even more, turning into her neck to nuzzle a sweet little nothing there and caressed her jaw lightly before stepping away to the sink ignoring Louis entirely. Again. He were half naked, also again. Although this probably counted as _courteous_ in Edward’s books as he were donning full-length pyjama pants and not just underwear. Dark navy and cotton, pull string, low slung fucking pyjama pants with a very obvious _lack_ of underwear.

Louis spluttered around his orange juice when he caught a glimpse of the thick weight between his thighs bob behind the material. Selena looked at him, panic flashing across her eyes, “Jesus, you okay?”

“Yeah,” He cleared his throat, embarrassed, “yep just, went down wrong.”

Edward, however, couldn’t care less whether he choked or not. Nose stuck in the gigantic refrigerator as he searched for his eggs. He sighed, throwing a wink to Selena in passing. Now he were back over at the stove and cracking them into a pan, Louis pulling at every effort to not look at him or any of the muscle that moved across those shoulders as he got to work.

“Eggs?”

Selena was waggling her eyebrows at Louis to which he immediately looked away from, not really sure what he’d end up responding with, probably the regurgitation of his delicious cereal.

“ _Omega._ ” Selena snapped out of her daydream, looking up from memorising the lines of muscles in Edward’s waistline to find grey eyes staring back.

“You were asking me?” Her voice was too high, brushing her hair to the side so her neck was exposed, “Please Alpha.”

There were some sizzling away in the pan, he knew her order and flipped them to how she liked. She rest her head in her hands to take up her new found hobby of _gawking_ and Louis officially lost his appetite.

Harry wasn’t long behind him and Louis thanked the heavens above. “Alpha.”

He was so elated to see him, top half covered as he were a decent man and his bottoms were striped red and black silk, legs so long they were nearly half massed on him. He had a coffee mug in one hand and was studying the front of a newspaper in his other with a small frown that eased once he purred a greeting into Louis’ ear, coming to sit beside him at the island.

“You snuck off,” He accused, Louis suddenly feeling more empathetic towards Selena’s earlier shudder as the vibration from his morning husk brought his hairs to rise.

He tilted his head to give Harry access to that mark he’d reinstated only hours prior. “Didn’t want to wake you.”

Selena was watching them with a fond glow until she pushed off her stool to collect her fresh eggs and warm toast from Edward, a bounce to her step.

“Not keen on waking up without you baby,” Harry murmured, taking a sip of his coffee and setting it on the table along with the paper so he could put his hands on Louis, pulling him onto his lap. “Edward?”

“The answer’s no.”

Louis was snapped out of the little haze he were slipping into. Blinking away from the raised voice he found interest in playing idly with the hem of Harry’s t-shirt. Harry smiled, aimed an apple at his naked back which Edward turned in time to catch, “Sunny side up please. And eat that. Can’t remember the last time I saw you eat a piece of fruit.”

Louis giggled despite being a little spooked at his intricate senses, dared to watch Edward as he struck Harry with a displeased look and took a chunk of the apple, then continuing to hold it between his teeth as he reoccupied himself with the frying pan.

“Didn’t think you were a breakfast person?” Louis tucked one full curl behind his ear, pleased at how pretty it looked.

Harry kissed his jaw, jogged his leg so Louis hitched forward, “Why not take the advantage though eh?”

The mornings carried on much the same like this and Louis became well accustomed with the pack. In the beginning he found he felt much more at ease when Roman or Niall were hovering about, but for the two weeks they’d been clustered together in the house now, he didn’t feel so much of an outsider at all. There were sixteen of them, including the Alphas. Four female omegas, one male. Two female betas, five male. And one other Alpha, Adahy. Though he weren’t a leader he proved his worth many times and Harry knew it were a grand benefit to have one in their ranks for now, especially now they’d lost Ansel.

He’d acquired the nickname ‘ _Lou_ ’ or ‘ _Loulouby_ ’. The most recent one were his absolute favourite, ‘ _dew drop._ ’ Because apparently never has one seen skin so clear on a human boy his age. Harry found himself testing the name _dewy-Louis_ amidst brushing his teeth one evening and Louis had to put his foot firmly down.

Selena was almost always his breakfast buddy on the weekends; a fellow late riser which meant they could get whoever was around and more awake to rustle up some food for them.

“You know, omegas are usually the ones to provide the food,” She told him one day, flicking her head to Roman who was battling with some pork sausages and bacon in the pan, dodging their spit, “Helps when you have pushovers like him around.”

The weekdays were different though. He had school and so was escorted there by a pack member - a beta, preferably. They took turns when deciding who would watch over him in the absence of Harry, some had educational commitments themselves. It wasn’t a chore, as if they were back at the pack house they’d only be either out and helping to maintain the gardens during the winter weather, or going through rigorous physical training as instruction of their Alphas in the mountains.

Things were cold up there, but beautiful. There weren’t many places you could wake up in the morning to look out one window at stand witness to the sun beating down on the white plains of snow, glimmering specs of light bouncing off the gems nestled among it, and peer out the other to see the same sun illuminate the mountain peaks, the river at their feet untouched and just waiting for the burn to rise and bless it with it’s warmth.

Louis sighed at himself in the mirror, fiddling with the neck of his speckled orange jumper. It were a bit wide so his neck were more exposed than he’d like in such a climate. It also meant the great big bruise Harry enjoyed maintaining on his throat was visible and _there_ , for all to see.

Not that he minded having that sort of claim stamped onto his skin.

It was early Friday morning and the house was quiet, the stillness of 7AM something he’d come to appreciate. He was getting into a routine quite nicely. He’d get up, usually with Harry in tow if he hadn’t already risen, take a shower, dress, grab whatever breakfast he could manage and make sure to set off forty-five minutes earlier than normal to make it to school on time - Harry declared all out war if he ever caught Louis driving his Audi and not his companion. Which today, he didn’t have one.

Harry had left somewhere around five to leave for setting up the perimeter with his packs further North. He and Edward had been communicating their situation for over a week now, gone through the long hours of the day and returned with heavy fatigue. They were both often on the phone into the later hours, business Louis’d been told not to concern himself with.

And it were no different last night; Harry rolling into the house at ten and after rinsing himself quick in the shower, slipped alongside the warm bundle of covers that concealed a giggling Louis. He’d not had chance to confirm a beta to take him. But Louis didn’t mind. It’ been two weeks and there’d been no trouble. It were only for one day and so if he could get away with it, he’d quite enjoy a normal day with Zayn and Liam like everything was normal again.

Which of course, it were never going to be.

“Where are you going?”

Was the sentence that got Louis stopping dead and dropping the bag he barely had a hold of. From the swirling silver off the eyes that were watching him, catching in the light he knew he should definitely attempt a reply. But this was the first time Edward had acknowledged him in the entire two weeks. Louis had chalked himself up as a figure of his imagination - may as well be, because he looks straight through him, doesn’t engage him in any conversation. Not once of which he’s aware has he spoke his name.

“Out?”

He knew how it sounded. He replied too fast, didn’t mean to, didn’t mean it to come out like that he was just shocked. He had no idea Edward was tucked away in the corner near the window, early sun illuminating half of him where he lounged. He was always so quiet. “I-I’m - I have class.”

Louis had tried to recover but Edward’s slow approach told him the damage was done, he bent down to retrieve his bag, one eye on the Alpha. He looked his age, youthful in a black beanie, skinny jeans and a baggy marl sweatshirt, sleeves rolled up haphazardly above his wrists. Cozy, Louis thought.

Somewhere along the few seconds he waited for Edward to come close, it occurred to him quite dreadfully that this were the first time they’d been alone together in the house too. Or in any room. Whether or not he meant to this was the first time Harry had actually allowed for it. Technically Gemma was in the other room. And there were a couple of pack members milling around upstairs as they adjusted to the day, but if Harry weren’t there and Edward was, that sufficed as alone.

Edward sighed quietly, inspecting Louis with a frown. The twins were going to age prematurely from that permanent scowl on their features. “Unaccompanied?”

“It’s just one…” Louis followed the hand that were brought up to pick off a pure white piece of thread from his shoulder, “day.”

It was clear from the moment Louis were alone with Edward he had a thirst for power. He had natural prowess for authority so it wasn’t misplaced on him, it suited him rather well with his hard angles and thick build. His voice was strong, words blunt. He was talked about and listened to without needing to say much at all. People knew they were in the presence of supremacy without him needing to open his mouth.

“But-,”

Edward slammed him a look and he forgot what he were going to contest.

Holding it until he was certain Louis drew mute, Edward walked forward throwing a glance over his shoulder quietly, “Come.”

The drive to the school was silent. Uncomfortable for Louis who sat upright at a ridiculous right angle the whole way assuming Edward would disapprove of any slouching.

He risked a glance to him every so often though, when the pine trees and solitary cars zipping by on the other side became boring. But every time he couldn’t dare keep it for longer than something fleeting or what could be passed off as accidental, afraid of what he may be met with if he did.

Edward beeped the masses of adolescents hoarding the car pack, revving the engine softly to get them to move. He didn’t wait long, students hurrying out the way of the approaching bumper, pulling others too, the rubber of the wheels crunching the tarmac beneath as he continuously etched forward. Patience ran dangerously thin between these Brothers. Louis released his knuckle tight grip from the leather seat and felt like he could breathe again once parked.

His seatbelt slapped against the door and Louis’ wrist was seized and it must’ve surprised them both because Edward looked like he suffered an electric shock and retreated immediately.

It took a moment of reasoning heavily with himself that the look in his eye was disgust because it can’t have been anything else.

“When do you finish?”

“Uhh,” Louis misplaced his vocabulary in the worst scenarios, “four?”

In the worst company.

Edward waited.

“My last class is at four, Alpha.”

It were clear that’s all Edward needed as he busied himself with unbuckling.

They walked up to the front entrance of the establishment with several pairs of wandering eyes following. Edward wasn’t making it a secret he wished to be anywhere else and was several steps ahead at all times. Louis, making it quite clear that he was unfortunately here with him however, huffing and sidestepping and apologising to several other students as he struggled to keep up.

“Hey- _hey!_ ”

He didn’t expect an answer, but it would’ve been nice.

“Edward-,” There was a stupid second he debated whether it were wise to speak his name out loud. He didn’t know who might over hear and he’d hate the costly information of _Edward_ _Styles_ being in the building to fall upon the wrong ears. “Can you- you don’t have to escort me to every-,”

“Louis?” Liam piped up from nowhere, slotting between the several feet between him and the brooding Alpha, “Hey man. Ready for your day of freedom?”

That’s right. Louis loses vocabulary in the worst of times. Liam gains it. There was no point in shushing him because Edward had already stopped, head angled to the side with a telling onset of a frown.

 _Fuck this ultra sonic hearing_.

Liam grew curious at the look on his face, waving his hand before him, “ _Hello_ …?”

“Is that so?”

“ _Holy-_ ,” Liam jumped to the side of Louis, gripping his arm which Louis thought pointless because what the hell were he going to do to protect him? A nervous giggle came from his friend then, shy almost, something Louis’d never seen on him before, “Edward. Didn’t uh,” He looked to Louis, regretfully putting two and two together, “didn’t see you there.”

“You planned this?” Edward’s jaw was rigid and tense and that’s never a good sign, if there’s something Louis’d learnt in his brief but chaotic relationship it’s that. Also if there’s a shift in colour of their irises - red flag.

His voice came out mid-breath, “Not planned exactly,” It sounded weird. Totally off. Edward already knew he was lying so why was he making this worse for himself? “Just realised no plans had been made because you and Harry were so tired last night and - it was an easy mistake, really, I just. I text Liam to say things may be different, I… um, I didn’t,”

Edward’s hand shot out. Both boys looked to it. “Phone.”

His mouth twitched to object but thankfully that shift in eye colour Louis was well versed in told him better before he had the chance. With a bowed head he unlocked his mobile and handed it over, glanced at Liam who had the complexion of someone who was nano seconds from throwing up.

Silently sifting through Louis’ latest texts, Edward was unaware of the growing number of students around him as classes were due to start imminently.

**_Louis: No it just means I can relax a little bit without someone breathing down my neck_ **

_**Liam: But I thought you liked them? :/** _

_**Louis: I love them. Just nice to have a day off** _  
_**Louis: Back to normality for a few hours** _

_**Liam: You’ll be a free agent monsieur :)** _  
_**Liam: But won’t Harry be mad? And Edward??** _

_**Louis: Edward doesn’t get a say. Plus he won’t care** _  
_**Louis: And what Harry doesn’t know can’t hurt him right?** _  
_**Louis: Besides it’ll be middle of the day when someone will notice for sure, they’ll be busy. Once Harry sees i’m home safe he might be a little mad but what’s he going to do?** _  
_**Louis: :)** _

_**Liam: Bite you?** _  
_**Liam: Oh, wait…** _

_**Louis: Hilarity** _

_**Liam: I think I could be an alpha…** _

_**Louis: Erm?** _

_**Liam: I’m tall and dashing >:)** _  
_**Liam: Buff too** _  
_**Liam: Plus I’m not opposed to sucking on necks** _

**_Louis: OKAY_ **  
**_Louis: Conversation’s getting weird_ **  
**_Louis: See you tomorrow x_ **

Something clicked and both boys felt their toes uncurl when their initial combined presumption of it being Edward’s fist was distinguished as his phone was handed back to him, locked.

Louis took it slowly, clearing his throat. He pushed it back into his pocket and waited for a chastening but as soon as he lifted his chin the ear-splitting sound of the bell ringing up and down the corridors sounded followed by an orchestra of lockers slamming shut, herds of feet shuffling, fitful laughter and voices. The world buzzed to life around them but Louis was fixed to just one spot.

His eyes truly were the most severely sonorous thing about him.

“See you at four.”

 

*

 

Spilling out into the hallways after each class, he were alone.

In the fifteen or so minutes between as he navigated the grounds to right room, he expected to catch a glimpse at least. But nothing. Not once. No lingering figure sat on the bench in the quad with a book, or at the side of the courts while they were at lunch, again with a book to not look too out of place, nothing.

Zayn poked fun at him, “So you actually want him to be glued to your side?”

Obviously not.

“No,” Louis swallowed his mouthful of a sickly peanut butter and jelly sandwich he really wished he’d thought through before buying, “Just be nice to know where he is.”

Edward being elusive was probably to be expected. But the others - Roman, Adahy, Elijah, even Niall a couple of times - they’d all stayed at close range. Or at least within eyesight. The times when they couldn’t be within physical reach they’d send him four or five texts during the day which he should respond to as fast as he can to signal he was alright, it was exhaustive but necessary.

His isolation was partly to blame, having such a unjustified hand dealt at such a crucial stage in development would send anyone off on the wrong path but Harry had told him stories, educated him on Edward’s innate need for respect. Harry was the reckless brawn of the pair, they were both equal with muscle but Harry was quicker to act. He didn’t play with his food whereas Edward enjoyed the chase. He got off on the struggle.

And that’s what it felt like for Louis - a struggle. Like Edward was making him wait for something. Whether it were something Louis had to do, some test he had to pass first or whether it were simply Edward dragging it out, to prove a point. He couldn’t figure anything out and all he wanted was for Edward to like him and he didn’t know why he cared for the approval of someone whom he doesn’t wholly require.

But maybe he does. And that’s the pinching afterthought that ties Louis’ stomach. Maybe he does require his approval because Edward is Harry’s twin Brother, one half to the domination, the accompanying heir to something Louis is looking to be a very primitive part.

With a frustrated kink to his existence Louis resigns himself to the fact it will come with good time. When Edward enters a room and addresses nearly everyone but him, or makes a point of leaving the room swiftly Louis already occupied, or when the muscles that construct the behemoth being that he is stiffen at the slightest token of physical affection from Harry, he tries to reason with himself and remember what Edward has been through. Acceptance and warmth aren’t magically going to start oozing from him.

Walking down the same corridor he has for years felt phantom now. There’d been an itch in the back of his throat, shifting between there and the bottom of his spine, driving him crazy with unease and anxiety ever since this morning.

“You don’t live locally? Oh my God me neither…”

Bouncing down the front steps he stopped, rolled his eyes from a distance as he picked up on the girl’s sweet, _fake_ and obnoxiously loud voice. She was twirling her hair, another girl posted by her side as she spoke to a very uninterested looking Edward, lounging against the side of the - oh. A new car. Louis squinted against the late afternoon sun, brought a hand up to inspect the vehicle; long, sleek and of course black.

A mercedes?

The Audi was nowhere to be seen. He must have left at some point. The thought upset him.

Edward was looking at them, squinting against the brisk wind as the front girl spoke on, the wind helping Louis pick up on verbal details as he closed in. But it didn’t take long for Edward’s nose to pick up on the scent he’s done everything to ignore and he stood up, unfolding his arms, “You’re late.”

The girl, perplexed, eyed Louis up once and looked to her friend who started to laugh, “You know Louis?”

Not the most forefront of issues but colour Louis shocked for he had no idea who she even was and yet most definitely knew him. Louis smiled weirdly, tightly. What else was there to do as the two girl looked at him unbelievingly and Edward was already unlocking the trunk, “Get in.”

He pulled the bag and thick books he didn’t have this morning from Louis’ grasp to deposit them in the trunk, closing it with a slam.

“The back.” His voice rose a fragment, not bothering with the girls, who were stunned to silence as Edward was already opening the driver side door.

_The back._

Fine by him.

“Edward,” Louis was in and the luxurious smell of fresh leather and polish was so welcoming after a full day stuffed inside classrooms. He pulled the door close and shuffled to the centre seat, feeling oddly confident about talking to him. “About this morning, could we just,” He straightened his fringe and looked to the driver but his tongue dried up when he clocked a figure sat in the passenger he didn’t expect, “- _Harry?_ ”

Harry was chewing around some gum, concentrated on something in his lap, Louis flicked his eyes down - phone. “Hey baby.”

The term of endearment didn’t feel endearing. In fact, looking at the questionable state of his eyes when he deposited his phone into the storage console and sought Louis out with a long arch of his neck, there was nothing friendly about him whatsoever. “Pleasant day?”

The detachment between those eyes and his voice was harrowing and Louis sunk back into the seat, wanting to break and run. “It’s school, it’s…”

Confusion struck deep when Harry beckoned him forward. The kiss was brief but made an obscene sound as their lips parted with a pop.

The car amped up and with one swing of an expert palm, the wheel turned and they were out the parking space. Louis nearly fell to the side, only just catching himself before his head smacked the door. He clambered for the middle seat belt immediately. Looking back up to see both twins sat comfortably and unaffected by the ferocity of Edward’s driving was distressing.

“Education, my sweet.” His Brother was only careful when pulling out of junctions, slowing only to peer at the oncoming traffic then they were out, Louis’ fingers gripping the leather once more. “It’s important.”

And he hasn’t said a word. Had hard eyes on the road ahead, attention not slipping or wavering to show the slightest interest in the conversations taking place beside him. Louis gulped, watched long fingers rise to rest lightly against his mouth, elbow on the window.

“Academia is a privilege wasted on too many.”

Louis knew he were in trouble. Could see it in the grip Harry had on the steering wheel, the way his concrete slab of a hand slapped his hair back, fingers wide and raking, too many times as if the stress he felt took great strength to keep at a concealed level. “Yes Alpha.”

“The A-road is closed,” Edward cut in quietly, “The next left goes around Brent Street.”

He was in so much trouble.

This information was accepted with a small nod, Harry rolling his head and asking, “Got a little business to attend, it’ll only take a couple of hours.” Harry’s eyes were crinkling at the side and Louis was almost convinced by their earnest, “I’ll be equipped with pizza on my return.”

Louis was lost. Eyes drifting quickly over to Edward’s everlasting phlegmatic appearance, then back to the hand Harry mixed with his own between the chairs. A thumb that were far more calloused than Louis were used to was rubbing over his knuckles and Louis leant against the seat, his cheek smushed. He must be exhausted.

“Movie and a pizza,” Louis smiled softly, “all to ourselves?”

“As promised.”

It was silent for the eleven minutes it took to get downtown, weaving through the early rush hour traffic, the honks and hustling City sounds loud but even they couldn’t draw a distraction for Louis, mind still fogged and ticking over with the dense possibility that this was all well orchestrated act. He had nowhere to escape to, if Harry knew what he thought he knew then he was doing a fine job at keeping it under wraps and Louis would damn well act ignorant until questioned.

Eventually Louis tore his eyes away from where they were joined as they came to a slow stop.

Edward spoke about being back no later than eight and Louis nearly whimpered when he _looked back._

“Come up front.” Harry’s rasp was unfamiliar and hardened. Louis would be a fool to decline.

He stood waiting with the door ajar, thick fingers curled around the top as he eyed up Louis’ slim appendages clambering out of the back seat. He looked at him for a sign, reassurance, scorn _anything_ so he’d know where he stood.

Instead those pink lips curled at one side, a smirk that tickled his cheek as he dipped to whisper, “He’s a puppy.”

He connected their lips, enjoying how warm they felt against his cool skin. Pulling back on begrudged growl, hating how he’d allowed himself to indulge in something he’d have to wait a handful more hours to pick up, he winked, tipped his head towards the front seat and Louis slinked in.

Louis watched him walk away as they pulled out into the main flow of traffic, fingers nimble around the seatbelt. Within seconds he had ascended the steep stairs and disappeared behind the glass doors without having to declare anything to the men stood guard outside. Peering up further he saw the colossal size of the unnamed glass building, not unusual in the business district, but what he was doing here was boggling.

With a sharp breath Louis whipped around, a hand that looked fit to break his bone if he desired, cupped around a lighter and a cigarette.

Louis only just caught his jaw before it smacked his lap.

“Does Harry know you smoke?”

The smoke swirled from his loosely parted lips, nostrils flaring softly as he tipped his head back to enjoy the moment. “What Harry doesn’t know won’t hurt him, right?”

Scare tactics. That’s all this was. That’s why he had Harry in the car, in his own car, Louis presumed. It all added to what he was trying to do. First thing was the car to throw him off in an unfamiliar environment. Then Harry, a pursuit of ‘ _does he or doesn’t he_ ’ ensuing. Now the snap lock release or what was being masked as a relief; his departure giving Louis the wide open opportunity to fire questions and freak out now out of ear shot of the man he were afraid of defying above all.

Yet of course that’s not what’s going to happen because Edward is the mastermind behind this masquerade and he knew he had Louis so tightly strung that he would think twice before sounding off like that in his own car, alone and despicably vulnerable.

“He doesn’t know.” Louis said, watching those lips suck the nicotine out gently.

Edward would always have the power.

“May come as a surprise to you,” The window was cracked, the car was kicked into fifth and Edward tapped the excess off the end, “but I don’t favour deception.”

Feeling impossibly exposed yet unable to gather anything to compensate, Louis swallowed, staring ahead at the grey clouds of smoke that came intermittently from Edward’s full lips.

Respect was the basic principle that Louis had thought he’d learnt from birth. He thought all basic lessons of decency among human communication had long been honed and had been utilised quite well so far, priding himself on his manners and lack of - outward - judgment. That was until he met Edward.

Harry had brought him under the strict umbrella of wolf society and educated him on the precedence that was intertwined through the Alpha, Beta and Omega dynamics. They weren’t anywhere near as stringent as he’d been brought up to believe. However being chosen as an Alpha’s future mate - something he was still getting to grips with - he had to learn there were certain rules of conduct that he must adhere to; address him in certain ways upon certain situations for example.

But Edward was the shift in balance which made his blood run cold. He was the tipping point on the scale not even Harry could prepare him for. _He_ , was without doubt the type of Alpha his parents had taught him about and every time he spoke, the fleeting seconds where those eyes would skim over any part of him, he felt like his feet were dangling, desperately trying to remain touching ground.

He felt his stomach lurch when a hand reached across him to the glove compartment, Edward’s face a whole lot closer than it ever has been. Which was a lie. They’d been this close before but the power balance was the most it will probably ever be tipped in Louis’ favour. Louis was spoon feeding him and marvelling in the endlessly wondrous bone structure and the pull of metallic grey eyes and things were very, very different.

“Please don’t tell him.” It was a beg and that’s what it had come down to. He shook his head. “ _Please_.”

This was what he were reduced to and Louis knew there was nothing he could do about it.

Edward sort of laughed then, smoke puffing around the cigarette that was still cushioned loosely between his lips. He pulled out three envelopes, all torn open and stuffed with paperwork bound by a couple of elastic bands. “Hold these.”

It were beyond his life’s worth to nose out their contents. Arranging them the best he could in his hands he fell quiet again, shuffled his bum back because the seat was brand new and not yet worn in.

“Uh, did you leave today?” The leather was wonderful and creamy and butter soft and everything Edward wasn’t. His Father owned a Mercedes so he were used to the luxury, but this model was different; newer possibly.

“Harry came by the school around ten, delivered this baby.” The cigarette was sort of hypnotic, the tiny inferno glowering at the tip of the slim stub. “Took his car with him.”

He’d answered the question without it being asked.

“Oh.”

But that didn’t explain why Harry was there just now, where was his car now? Because he obviously doesn’t have it as he needed Edward to give him a lift? If it were Harry in the driver’s seat he’d be quizzing him, chewing on some jelly sweets- those raspberry squares Harry knows he loves so much he’s dedicated a full jar to them back at the house - force feeding Harry some while he tries to keep eyes on the road.

Alas there were no sweets, just the envelopes. That new car smell, Edward’s cologne and now a hint of cigarette smoke.

Pushing aside everything that should logically make the journey drag, Louis resigned himself to his imagination, his subconscious lulling him into a thirty minute long day dream that when he saw the familiar coal shop zip by he knew they were minutes away from the house.

Edward was trudging atop the gravel, door slammed shut as he manoeuvred to the back of the car to collect Louis’ bags. And much to his honest surprise, Louis didn’t have to carry them. Edward gripped two fingers through the hook of his rucksack , holding the stack of books atop his forearm and led on without acknowledgement.

The gesture didn’t go unnoticed by Gemma, who stopped mid sentence soon as they stepped through the door, “Oh good you’re…,” She saw the bag, the books and side eyed Louis, “home. What took you so long?”

Pretending he didn’t see the look, Edward deposited his things on the bottom step and pulled off his beanie, “Harry’s car.”

Gemma understood, even if Louis _still_ didn’t and she fussed over Louis like a mother, patting his shoulders and giving him a warm kiss to his cold, blotched cheeks, “I’m cooking-,”

Edward’s groan echoed through the long hallway, already making his way somewhere deep into the house. It was hard to stifle a grin, but Louis just about managed it.

“ _Despite popular opinion_ ,” She called, sighing and finally letting go of his shoulders, “I can cook. Well, I make a sexy stew.”

Louis could eat some stew. Despite the deceptive shining sun outside it was approximately minus 456 degrees out and he is quite famished after leaving half of that awful sticky sandwich earlier. Plus Harry would be home some time after eight and so by the time it takes him to do whatever business he has, get a pizza and return home he should have plenty of space for that too. His tummy gargled and Gemma was about to leave but turned around with stars in her eyes, dipping to cup his midsection, “ _Oh my goodness you are so cute_.”

Apparently that was the cutest thing she’d seen all week.

Louis decided a shower was in order before any feasting could commence. After the challenge of getting Roman to actually leave him alone, whisper shouting about how he’d finally watched that movie Louis had told him about and how he would never again look at time and space the same way again, he begun peeling away his layers of clothing. Now alone he couldn’t wait to wash away the day, the anxiety still a tumbling mess in the pit of his stomach, but the steam and hot water soaking his tired little body was sure to ease some of it.

And he wasn’t wrong. Stepping out of the shower felt like being reborn; thrust into the welcoming warmth of the ornate bathroom and it’s brass fixtures he could take a second out to be alone. Scrubbing himself in fluffy cotton from head to toe, the raspberry and almond of his body wash that Harry had denied him for a solid twenty minutes before throwing it in the cart caught in his nose. He’d grumbled about how it smelt far too similar to something else, but when Louis probed around the issue he shut down.

Feeling very much like a pampered pet he stumbled into the adjoining bedroom and began pulling on some pale grey underwear when something in the same drawer- the one that’d been set aside for his use only - caught his eye, and upon further inspection it was confirmed, right there, just how much he loves his Alpha.

Giggling way more than he should, he pulls out the pair of baby pink socks, rolled together by a piece of string with a note hooked around it.

_‘Pink is the colour of rock n’roll.’_

Carefully removing the small tab of card with Harry’s messy scrawl on it, he fondles at the memory of how much trouble he could’ve got himself into that day, not quite believing he was staring at a pair of socks like they were his first born children. Closing the drawer he walked over to the dressing room the three of them shared to store the note, before plonking down on the bed closest without thinking and pulling the cotton socks onto his feet.

He leant back onto the mattress, the thickness of the quilt sinking him to the wrists and kicked his legs out straight to admire the work.

Sighing away from the bubblegum hue of ridiculousness, he plodded over to the dressing table to find his phone that’d started buzzing. He should really start remembering to take it off silent mode for when he’d inside the house.

“Hello?”

Zayn.

“No I got home abut an hour ago, why?”

_Z: You think you could wrangle a lift to mine?_

Louis sat down again, plonking down into the cushioned folds of the bed spread. He giggled, “Not likely.”

_Z: Why? It’s me, it’ll be tender affair, just a few drinks. It’s Friday night!_

“Tender as in your house is at risk of not being there in the morning.”

_Z: Well._

“Yeah,” Louis leant back into his arm smiling, “I know what you class as tame.”

_Z: What about Niall? He’s about as hard as a marshmallow, get him to take you… or Roman! Bets on, he’d be down for a dance._

Stretching his toes as far as they’d go, he grew curious at how big this bed was for his feet couldn’t even touch the ground. Pouting as he peered at his knees hooking the edge of the mattress he shook his head, “Well there is the minor issue of a life changing shift happening within the pack at the moment which may not, you know, place any of them in the party mood. And secondly, do you listen to anything I say about how strict they are?”

There was a pause. A pause Louis knew he weren’t accepting anything only trying to work around it. He was smiling already in anticipation, plopped back atop the squishy cover completely now.

 _Z: I hear you_.

“Hm.”

_Z: But listen. Look, listen I think that’s the problem, you guys are all bunched up in that house and you need to let -_

“Not going to happen.”

There was incoherent shuffling on the other end and Louis was still smiling like he had his lips permanently pinned, tucking his legs up to rest his feet on the edge. He stared at the ceiling and it’s embossments of ivory. It only appeared to him now how it was so rich looking it must be wallpapered.

_Z: They can’t be that bad._

“They’re beyond strict. If they find out I’m out somewhere alone-,”

_Z: Boring._

“For good reason.”

_Z: Just one drink. Or no, one hour. Two - two hours and the big man can even come and pick you up himself._

As his toes curled around the edge he threw his head back with a burst of laughter, “Oh my you strike quite the bargain!”

_Z: Come onnn._

He rolled his head to the side and panic struck his core like a hot lashing of acid. This wasn’t Harry’s bed.

“Um,” Yet he didn’t move. Frozen, sunken to the spot with fear that weighted his stomach like someone who’d walked into the tide with rocks in their pockets. “I-,”

Zayn’s laugh wasn’t nice anymore, his voice weaving through his sensors like a snake. He was too loud and this bed was too comfy. His other hand rest idly on his bare rib cage were the bandage had been removed yesterday, fingers dancing over the dwindling bruising.

_Z: I’m tempting you aren’t I?_

“Y-you see it’s not Harry that I’m worried about,” Rolling his head back to centre to stare at the lavishly constructed ceiling he stammered out a breath, “it’s Edward.”

_Z: His Brother?_

“No the other one.”

The pause got Louis impatient, “Yes his Brother you dick.”

_Z: Well he let you off this morning right? When he saw the texts he was cool about it so…_

That’s exactly what he’s worried about.

He wasn’t necessarily _scared_ of disobedience around Harry. The thought excited him a little because of the risk he’d be taking going against his word but he knew that as mad as Harry would be he’d never hurt him. Even though he’s being so restrictive on his location for good sound reason and he’d feel incredibly stupid putting himself out there alone like that given the fact Anne and Desmond had been MIA since they got back from the UK, there was a funny feeling making itself known right down there in the pit of his stomach next to that gargantuan fear. A daring temptation. 

“I don’t know,” He could text Harry where he was around eight and he’d come by and pick him up, “maybe a couple of hours won’t hurt.”

From what he can gather Harry will have be picking his car up at some point from somewhere. He still has no clue what was going on with that.

_Z: Yeeees_

“And it is only your house,” He won’t be that mad.

_Z: You going to try get Niall or Rome in or?_

“No I think it’s best I come alone,” Plus he’d understand, eventually, that he just wanted to hang out with his friends like normal. It’s only Zayn.

_Z: Oh man so you’re sneaking out?_

“Yeah I’ll have to be quick though,” He was chewing the inside of his mouth, a habit brought on by repressed anxiety, and the quashing of that little voice of sense trying to talk him out of every wrong decision, “everyone is downstairs so-,”

There was no hope of curbing the strangled shriek that exploded from his mouth as suddenly his ankles were wrapped in something warm and tight and he were yanked forward so his bottom was only just teetering off the edge of the bed.

_Z: Lou- Louis?_

The phone was gone, faced down like both his palms flat on the bed and gripping the cover as he peered down to the boy stood between his parted, bare legs.

“Hang up.”

With his worst fear being confirmed, he couldn’t tie down a sensible thought long enough to form a good enough response, the grip that encased his entire ankles turning cruel. Harry would kill him. Perhaps for real this time if he could see the way his skin was already turning white and red from the force behind that grip he’d throw him down.

“You don’t want me to repeat myself.”

Blindly slapping the bed for his phone he found it next to his waist, must’ve flung from his grasp. The confused scratched sounds of Zayn’s voice could be heard at a low volume through the small speaker, but Edward’s word was firm. Like his grip. He thumbed the red circle and it felt like he’d burnt his only line of hope.

Louis should be concerned about the monstrous hands concealing his slim and now _sore_ ankles. The sheer strength of the individual who owns those hands. The long band of muscle which made up Edward’s torso, heaving, now clearly visible since he’s removed his sweater and wears an unfairly thin white t-shirt.

But he was more concerned about being so physically exposed in front of him. He wore only underwear, his hair still damp from the shower, his skin was still dewy and freshly soaped but the heart beat skipping up a rate in his chest would sure ruin that with sweat if Edwards’ intentions were as cruel as his eyes.

“Now I must insist you don’t take me for a fool, kitten.”

He was lowering his legs now, hip height. Louis remained flat on his back, eyes pinned on the stack of specimen stood tall between them.

“Indulge me.” Edward lowered his eyes to a place he knew he shouldn’t, and Louis’ stomach curled. “First you chalk up a plan to go behind my Brother’s back to put yourself in a scope of danger he’s been doing his utmost to protect you from,”

Apparently Louis was numb to the extent of his own fear, blinking away the wetness gathering at the rims of his eyes. “-It wasn’t-,”

Louis whined painfully as those hands rearranged further North on his slender calves where there was more flesh to squeeze and did exactly that, wringing the limbs mildly. Indeed, it felt as though he could snap them. Part of Edward desperately wanted to, to smother the life from his delicate body.

“ _Sorry Alpha_ ,” Louis bit around his submission.

“Not only omitting his dominion over you but mine too.”

He was perpetually calm and Louis wanted to scream.

“Then, you think it fit to ask me to _lie._ ”

Louis forgot about the rawness around his ankles, the tears behind his eyes for that weight of dread in his tummy was real and it was a hand at his throat, a full crotch pressed against his taint.

Sucking in his lower lip he felt it tremble and knew Edward saw it too. He could only nod.

“If that’s not insolence already at its finest, you wait until my back is turned to take another jab at violating his trust.”

 _His_ trust.

Edward didn’t trust him?

“I-I,” His voice was small and close now he were directly beneath, “m’ sorry.”

Innocence was the blanket covering Louis’ ignorance and Edward wanted to tear it right off, the tiny compact being bent almost in half looking up at him like he knew he could sent a surge of adrenaline through his chest.

He was near sobbing, “I’m sorry, I won’t do it- promise I won’t do it again, I’m so sorry-,”

“Not yet you aren’t.”

“But-,”

He _dared_ him. Edward looked at him and dared him to try and back chat.

Edward was a living breathing contradiction to his own body. Voice calm, gesture rough. Louis were so small it wasn’t a task for anyone to lift him without struggle, the Alpha demonstrating this perfectly as he took his bare arm and pulled him up and straight off _his_ bed. He knew it hurt but that was only the beginning.

“He is soft, my Brother. For you his will shall give and give and give until you push it too far and it becomes a danger.” Louis wasn’t sure why Edward was looking at him like that, assessing him with eyes everywhere but where he expected them to go - South. “Unfortunately for you I’m nothing like my Brother.”

The boy had started trembling, something that felt like it’d originated from the moment Edward kidnapped him in the taxi and keeps coming back in bursts of terror ever since. He closed his eyes around a soft sob, his throat being lightly bound by loose fingers, “Fortunately for you however, I respect my Brother too much.” Louis could feel his breath, warm as it fell over his features. “But rattle your cage much more kitten, it may not be too difficult for me to mislay my loyalties.”

“Please don’t,” Louis realised his mistake immediately, so used to needing to beg before him about one thing or another it was automatic, “I- sorry, Edward, _I mean_ -,”

A hand clamped over Louis’ mouth, “You talk too much.”

Maybe Louis really didn’t know that much about how to behave. Maybe he needed someone to shock him out of the system Harry had lured him into. Someone who wasn’t a fool to his gentle purity and human natured simplicity. Maybe, that’s exactly what Louis needed and he just didn’t know it yet.

Edward was willing to wait.

“You’re going to get dressed, go downstairs and eat.” His eyes flicked downwards for a second and it wasn’t a secret anymore, able to mask so many things but that - the shift in them when he did that. But Louis couldn’t figure out what it meant. “Not too much mind, don’t want to add more disappointment to the list when he returns home with the food you begged him for only for you to decline.”

Leaving him without a definitive answer to his constant wondering of will he or won’t he when it comes to enlightening Harry about his misdemeanours was a special brand of torture only Edward could conduct.

Louis flinched at the slam, left standing and shivering amidst the remnants of Edward’s threat.

 

*

 

Eleven o’clock on a Friday evening was either a very lonely or very happy hour. When most bars closed, or refused entry. When most people would retire to their bedrooms or at least consider it, maybe go to make a hot drink before slinking off into more private quarters. While most were deciding it were lights out, Harry and Louis hadn’t even started.

The pizza went down a treat, after Edward’s words lingered like barbed wire around his throat he only managed a small serving of Gemma’s delicious stew, which he still thinks she took offence to despite him insisting he just wasn’t that hungry.

Harry had returned home - _in_ his car - and bundled Louis up, violated his mouth right there in front of his Sister and the other Alpha Adahy, before declaring he needed to shower.

Just over two hours had passed and Harry was outraged.

“So, that’s _it_?”

Louis hid his smile behind the mound of blankets he’d brought through by himself, Harry feeling a weird accomplishment with how at home he was becoming. He studied the frustrated lines of his frown, the sharpness of that jaw line as he brandished a hand towards the television, clearly gobsmacked, “So you don’t know if he’s awake or if he’s dreaming?”

“I can’t believe you’ve never seen this movie before.”

“I can’t believe Mr Nolan hasn’t been sued thus far for such a _shit_ ending.”

Louis gasped, defiant in his decision to throw a chocolate raisin at his head. “No one insults the legend.”

It wasn’t a victory that it’d hit his face, bounced right off his nose in fact, for they were laid up _in front_ of the couch on the floor on top a carefully laid out arrangement of pillows and cushions from said couch for them to stretch out. Louis’d spent most of his time sat between Harry’s bent legs, the blankets tenting over him while he nestled back into the custom made back rest of Harry’s chest.

He uncurled from between them, accidentally pulling the covers off with him so Harry’s bottom half was exposed, “Gonna make you watch every single one of his films.”

Harry threw the chocolate sweet into his mouth, distracted by Louis on all fours and crawling to the television set, “Really.”

“Yep. And you’re going to sit through each masterpiece and you sir, will be in awe.”

“I have no awe left,” Harry cocked his head to the side, Louis looking adorable clicking the DVD back in place with his tongue clamped between his lips.

"Then make room." He stuck his tongue out, kneeling up and stretching to slot the remote up top.

“C’mere.”

Harry waited patiently for Louis to stumble back up and over the cushions, slipping on the loose covers here and there, until he realised he were in love with a child and picked him up by his waist.

“Oh God- okay,” Louis wondered if there would come a day where he got used to being manhandled, especially in situations or _positions_ like these were it shouldn’t be physically possible yet there he was and there were Harry’s biceps, “okay.”

He was settled back on his lap, forward facing though, his hips slotting nicely atop Harry’s spread thighs.

Louis was still smiling when he cupped his muscled jaw and brought them closer together until their lips met, both sticky and sweet from sugary treats. It was lewder than he’d expected, going in for cute and comfortable but neither seemed to stop it when Harry’s tongue slipped past those little lips and sucked lightly at his own.

Without realising it Louis’d ground his hips and Harry’s hands had taken their cue to move from waist to bottom, packing a heavy hold which made Louis’ lips pop off on a small whimper.

It were probably a good thing the only light available to them now was the fire. The cackling sounds of the ember burning probably a similar shade to the glow of Harry’s bewitching gaze on Louis’ neck. He licked his lips once, clearing his throat although it did nothing in ridding his timbre, “I’m sorry.”

Allowing himself the pleasure of running his small hands across Harry’s broad shoulders, dipping underneath the barrier of his shirt to scrape up his back to his nape Louis tilted his head, kissed his nose, “What for?”

“Everything,” Harry’s eyes had slipped close, enjoying the affection of his tiny companion, “I’ve been distracted lately. So much that I’ve neglected you.”

Louis wouldn’t class any of his decorum over the past two weeks as neglect, a far cry from it.

He can’t remember the last time he went to bed without Harry, or when he hadn’t woken up to a text if he’d had to leave earlier than Louis were to rise. Harry didn’t realise that Louis were in fact awake a couple of times on those 5AM mornings, when Harry would roll out of bed slowly, scrub his face and sit for a minute before getting up and kissing his forehead or nose or cheek - whatever he could reach.

Making a sound Louis shook his head, arms curling around his neck completely, “No you haven’t.”

Hearing the soft thrum of Louis’ heartbeat, tranquil and so close to his own was a pleasure Louis’d never understand. His hands kneaded the soft flesh on his hips, eyes peeling back open to look at his entire world, right there, alive and doting in his lap.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Yet it wasn’t a shy subject that they’d gone the entirety of the two weeks without any physical affection.

If Harry had a spare minute after a long day Louis could slip in a cuddle from him on the couch, embracing what he could in the form of quick catch up conversations and sweet kisses. Then Harry would have to be elsewhere, on the phone, with Edward or Apahy. Pack business he weren’t to be involved with.

Then at night when Harry would succumb to the pull of fatigue, they could indulge each other intimately, hands slipping and pulses racing but it would always end there. He didn’t know if it were because Edward were a stone’s throw away or if it were just the pressure.

Fifteen days had passed since the twins had returned and claimed their pack. These past two weeks had been spent trying to acquire all the packs under their rein, bringing them together to spread word and put in place plans, tactics, exhaustive communications across Canada that were transcending to North America too. Throughout all of this, Anne and Des had sunk into silence. They’d completely gone off the grid and it was probably the worst move they could’ve made. Now they were sitting ducks. The pack could rally all the support and muscle they could find but without being able to trace or predict their next plan of attack, without having the first clue of where they were it left them vulnerable.

And everyone knew it. The eery silence from the Styles’ front was affecting everyone.

“You have to be up tomorrow?”

Louis questioned, poking the dimple that surfaced and giggling when Harry turned his head to bite his finger playfully.

“At some point, regrettably.”

“ _Early,_ Alpha?” He shifted in his lap, and when Harry realised he were slipping away a little he frowned, tugged him back.

“No.”

“No?”

“We can stay up as late as you want.”

“Thanks Daddy.”

Harry hissed, slapped his bum that was pressed up nicely against his thighs.

His hand remained flat across the fleshy curve, fingertips tingling with the urge to move. Louis wasn’t expecting the swell to surface so readily beneath his thighs like that but no further explanation or instruction was needed. Harry’s presence was suddenly commanding, more attentive than it were moments ago, enough to ensure Louis remains quiet and malleable.

He’s excited. Nervous, but the healthy kind. Harry had wordlessly peeled off his top, gentle even with hands like that, looked at him with a point, a silent message before bringing their mouths together again and begun to remove his underwear too.

Louis looks insatiable. Warm, continuous curves on tanned skin. Entangled in his bedsheets he reminds Harry of the rich servings of coffee you get at artsy cafés, where the white froth design is merged with the caramel hue.

But just like the coffee, he _tastes_ even better.

They will never stop learning each other’s bodies, Harry taken a vow to dedicate his days to discovering new things about him every day. But it’s satisfying when his hands just know where to go, how to contour themselves to Louis’ lithe frame so he does that thing where he tries to muffle his pleasure, embarrassed all of a sudden.

“Baby,” Harry breathes, now on top with Louis’ legs hooked he nosed the underneath of his jaw.

Permission was granted a long time ago and approval was never needed. Harry was rocking their bodies, subconscious to his rhythm but can sense the trepidation beneath that silky skin. He’s trembling. Can feel the way his sweaty palms slide and unsurely press against his bulk and his thighs quiver with uncertainty.

Truth is Louis has no idea what he’s doing. Has no idea where to put his hands, or what counts as too much or too little. He figured Harry being here with him would make it easier but for the first time it just makes him more nervous. He’s just so far out of his element and so afraid of messing this all up he just can’t get himself to relax.

“Louis.” Harry hovers above him looking at him as though Louis was some type of scared animal. It wasn’t very far from the truth. “Is this too much?”

“No,” He shakes his head, certain. “No I’m just nervous. It’s - I haven’t done this before I just- see I have no idea what I’m doing.”

Harry smiles kissing him on the lips. “Just do what feels natural.”

“Harry, I’m not being funny but- literally nothing about you is natural I-,”

Harry laughs, reaching down to try and sooth the quivering muscles of those slim hips.  

“Fair enough. Then how about you focus on relaxing, and let me do what feels natural.”

“But you're the beast and I'm beauty,” He received a nip to the jaw for that, “what feels good to a wolf may not exactly feel-,”

“How ‘bout this,” Harry leans down kissing him softly on the lips, cutting him off, “this,” He pulls back, kisses just above his left nipple, “and this.” He goes to his right where he flicks a tongue over the hardened nub. He scoots farther breathing in Louis’ scent with a pleasant groan before kissing the sensitive expanse of his inner thigh.

Louis squeaks as Harry grabs his cheeks, lifting him off the floor just enough to run a warm tongue along his crack.

“ _Ah_ -”

“Relax, Louis.”

He feels blunt teeth bite at one of his cheeks, and another swipe of a warm tongue before there’s a press of lips against his hole.

“Relax.”

He whimpers, body arching as the warm tongue circles his entrance, teasing and tasting for their mutual benefit, the sounds wet and delicious are the only ones aside from the fire and Louis’ laboured breaths.

Harry hums inquisitively against his hole, lips air tight and slippery wet. When he gets no resistance he takes the green light and pushes in.

Louis’ back arched further but stopped defiantly by a palm braced heavy on his naval pushing him back down for the angle. It felt strange and invasive but in the most amazing way and Louis was well on his way to becoming addicted to having the Alpha nestled between his thighs. He presses a wrist to his mouth trying to stifle the nonsense sprouting from between his lips, but Harry growls, pulling up long enough to tug Louis’ arm away before going right back to his ass.

“Harry, _Harry_." He feels around for a piece of Harry he can touch, "H-harry… Harry, Harry, Harry-,”

His throat nearly collapses when Harry adds a finger with his tongue filling and stretching the boy even more. It all feels amazing and quite dizzying, but it’s not enough. He needs something more, something else, something to make him fully relax, something to make this all perfect.

“Please.”

He doesn’t know what he needs, but Harry seems to because he pulls away. Shushes Louis when he starts to whine from the loss. Presses another kiss to his lips and that’s when Louis feels what he needs. Feels the press of the Alpha’s hard length against his entrance. There was no force behind it, pretty sure there were more worrying inches down there than he remembers as he brushes it up and down, testing.

“Fuck.”

Yes, _fuck_ , indeed. “Oh fuck.”

Harry’s underwear snaps back into place and he apologises before excusing himself, covering Louis up with the covers. Louis brings the fleece material up and over his face, willing himself to get it together for a few wild moments when the door creaks open and clicks close once more.

Louis peeps at him kneeling back on the cushions and places a bottle of something next to him, pointing to it, “I’ve had this for a long time.”

Great?

“What I mean is,” Harry corrected, sensing the weird reception, “since I knew we were a sure thing.”  
Louis was human. Harry were used to Omegas. Although both seem to react in a similar fashion when aroused, certain _natural_ aspects couldn’t be further apart.

“Is it-,” Louis knew the answer, “Will it-,”

“At first.” Harry is between his legs in no time, pulling Louis’ thighs apart and resting them atop his hips.

Leaning forward he gathered a couple stray pillows and placed them underneath Louis’ head, staying there for a second while he stares into those wide eyes looking up, searching for that reassurance that he’s okay. Harry gave him the reassurance with small kisses on his parted lips, each one more wet than the one before. He slips a hand between his thighs, long fingers brushing against his arousal, cupping and massaging his swollen taint that had those delightful hips bucking up at his command.

“Good boy.” Harry purred, swallowing the pleasurable peeps of Louis’ with his mouth.

A slight shift in position from his other arm and Louis tensed, “ _Oh_ ,”

His fingers were lubricated generously, and he sunk them in deep. Normally he’d work him up slow, taking extra care when introducing a second finger to the overwhelmingly tight heat. But tonight he needed to push those boundaries.

Harry peered down between their flush bodies, the contrast in size mouth watering laid together like this.

Louis did the same, nearly knocking Harry’s forehead in the process and mewling in embarrassment when he saw just how aroused he already was, his cock hard and swollen pink against his naval. He couldn’t hold it though, head lolling back into the pillows to relax into the full feeling that came with thick fingers pushing and pulling along his insides.

Harry nipped his lip and grumbled about wanting him to stay relaxed.

“Alpha?”

But Harry was at his neck, biting at that fucking spot when he adds another finger.

The arm he were resting his weight into moved again and a hand curled into Louis hair, tugging it back so his neck were open and easily accessible.

“ _I can’t- I-_ ,” His mouth worked around silent vowels.

The warmth and wetness of Harry’s profane tongue did nothing to distract him from the sting down below.

“You can,” Harry were marking him again, forearm contracting and relaxing as he worked in and around his insides, “you can do this baby, easy now.”

His resistance was great at first, Louis gripping Harry’s assaulting wrist, trying to clamp his thighs together. But Harry wasn’t letting him go that easy. He needed him to stay with him and knew that perseverance through the pain, no matter how austere, was the only way to prepare him.

Harry twisted his arm one last time for his own evil taste, watching Louis hitch and push against the metal of his rings, before he chuckled and pulled out very slowly. So slow that it felt like his fingers were too long, too thick for them to have fit in the first place.

It was some time before anything happened, Louis laying there in the heat of anticipation as Harry was nothing but a brunette blur of movement in his limited vision. His hole was clenching around the loss and against his better judgment he winds his hands around the thick mounds of his arms when he’s stunted by a slight burn between his legs. Louis blinks once, then again and his hands tighten as he looks at Harry with _much_ clearer vision.

“ _Oh my-_ ,” Louis has to grip the blanket, hands smacking down and fingers curling into the fleece, “oh my God.”

Harry was slow again, wary of all the ways this could go severely wrong. Pushing forward, the tip of his arousal breaches his entrance and he has to grip the sheets too, clinging to his sanity.

“Okay?” He’s talking to himself and Louis. He doesn’t know if it’s best to keep his eyes open, close them or where to put his hands. But he figures he doesn’t need to overthink much as things progress. He just prays his instinct _doesn’t_ take over. “You’re okay.”

Louis feels like crying from admittedly - _pain_ , but sheer fucking relief, that thick cock spearing him open and stretching him wide. 

He’s been teasing him for so long now with his tongue and his fingers. Not just this evening but for months, it’s been the only outlet of their frustration and in doing so ironically adding to it. Harry’s practised tongue knew how to get Louis to come undone and leave him with a deeper urge each and every time to be filled, manhandling Louis exactly where he wants him with all those rippling muscles and thick fingers and laboured hands, keeping his hips down and his thighs spread whilst Louis whimpers and writhes and outright begs to be fucked already.

But now, fuck, finally now he’s on his back pressed into the cushions with the same two huge hands pillaring those arms either side of Louis’ face as Harry pushes the tip of his cock inside Louis’ little hole, feeding him the length of it nice and slow, hungry eyes trained on him, all over him to make sure he was okay with every inch as it sunk inside.

Louis felt faint from the pressure. It was hot and heavy in a way that ripped the breath from his lungs. He knew it was going to be a process, a struggle to get used to, but now he was there like that and looking at him like that while he looked _like that_. The air around them crackled, Louis sure it was just the fire place, heady beads of sweat trickling down Louis’ brow as he gasps trying to suck in air, feeling dizzy and full all at the same time but it’s still not enough even if it is sweet, sweet pressure.

Slim fingers uncurl from the throws once things seem to still. Harry’s breathing is steady, always low, but he was looking at him like he needed him to say something, indicate something, so Louis’ body did what felt natural like Harry said, and he tugged the Alpha down by his neck, hands splaying in the thick curls as lips merged in a desperate attempt to convey what he needed to hear without saying it.

Pulling back, Harry’s eyes were a dangerous onyx. Dark and liquid against the glow from the fire. Louis didn’t know how he’d gone from fearing such things to finding them breathtaking.

After what feels like forever the Alpha’s hips pull back, cock slipping out until just the very tip is pressed against Louis’ winking, empty hole. Then Harry swallows, his biceps lock and he drives back in.

And it’s game over for Louis.

For five, ten, maybe twenty minutes, neither of them had a clue how long they were there, their bodies writhed. Breaths fluctuating between high and fast and slow and sticky, limbs locking and joints clashing as they tried to get closer, greedy for the other. Taking the momentum steady from the start, Harry knew he had to tread carefully. Lost to the primal urges he’d been battening down for so long he could only unwind so far, too fearful of turning those wide glistening eyes tearful for the wrong reasons.

The blessed obscenities poured from Louis’ mouth as he grew accustomed to the growing force, his body accepting Harry’s liberal intrusion so well, he knew he could take it a little further, try grasp a little more of him than he already had, wanting so badly to live up to and satisfy all of Harry’s desires. Because that was the real issue.

The length, gloriously above average and slightly curved, perfect to hit that spot over and over and _over-_

The girth- obscene. Louis thought his limit had been drawn at three fingers but he was naive back then; didn’t know what a stretch was until now.

Normally this alone would be enough to give Louis’ virginal compliance a work out, but throw it together with the stamina that came as a trademark with Harry’s kind, for now, Louis could do nothing but lay still as possible and succumb to the endless thrusting, the sparks of pleasure zipping from the stretched muscle and running to every fibre of his naked flesh.

Harry could feel it growing and it was getting unbearable.

He rest their foreheads together, their sweat mixing, his hair haloing Louis’. He needed him to know he needed Louis just as much as he needed him.

He knew one more minute and he’d have to pull out but he really, _really_ didn’t want to. Harry’s vast sexual history was nothing in comparison to this right here, to feeling Louis contract and relax around him simultaneously. His scent that seems custom made for Harry’s pleasure only, filling him up and driving his hips forward with an urge to please, to claim, to sate their joint hunger.

Louis was a mess beneath him, wet and sticky and so dependant on him it drove Harry rabid.

He’d buck forward a little hard now and again but had enough awareness to ease up, taking conscious note of the small fingers digging into his skin, his back, his arms, the nape of his neck - anywhere. Louis was constantly clinging and breathless. Sweat running over the dips of taught muscle in his back, his ass, his arms - his hips would keep snapping.

But that sensation was rapidly approaching and Harry swiped his tongue along his neck, growled into the sensitive haven below his ear, “Need you on top baby.”

Barely aware of his ability to comply, Louis’ hands fell to his wrists, Harry’s hips beginning to slow until they became completely still and he pulled out altogether. That was the most painful thing since the initial breach.

The Alpha was on his back, head falling into the dent Louis’ had made guiding the sweat-slick thighs either side of him as he attempted to get a good anchor on Harry’s front. It seemed Louis were momentarily conscious about his weight, not understanding how he felt like a papier-mâché version of himself at the best of times, palming the mounds of his boyfriend’s pectorals carefully.

“It’s okay, you’re good,” Harry smiled, teeth catching his bottom lip as he circled Louis’ thin wrists, “lean into it, come on baby,”

This way Louis could control the pace and Harry was less likely to keep pummelling his hips forward while his knot split him open.

Louis’ thighs trembled as he rose up, twisting round for a short second to guide the bulbous head past his entrance. He was so raw and so inexperienced that it took him a good couple of minutes to nestle the first few inches, Harry’s hands a caressing guide on his hips the entire time.

"That's it, sit down, right down..."

His knot had swollen to a devastating size and it was only going to be a matter of minutes before he came.

“Oh-,” Louis slipped another inch, coiling forward, “ _oh my God_ ,”

His hands were dug into Harry’s chest and Harry’s were gripping his ass, encouraging the slow but sure movement above him. The different angle was the final stretch for Louis, the shock he needed for his orgasm to make itself known, alarmingly quick.

He didn’t know it were possible to be brought to climax without touching and his body didn’t know what to do with the information it was being fed. Harry’s cock was nudging his prostate so nicely, the size stretching him to his limit, he started letting out a concession of tiny sounds Harry was mesmerised by. Gaining confidence in this position he began to sit back, granting Harry with the glory of his tightened, wet body, gyrating and _bouncing-_

“ _Fuck-_ ,” Harry’s groan only willed the coiling in his lower tummy to grow tighter.

It didn’t matter he wasn’t taking the whole length because this was enough. He’d picked up a steady rhythm that had his hole burning but his Alpha growling. Brave enough to reach back he felt the hard swell near the bottom of his length, fingers feeling the veins rising there and he whined, “ _Alpha_ ,”

“Baby,” Harry pushed out, strangled.

Louis' stomach dipped.

“B- _baby_ ,”

Their breath was short, ragged. Some sounds were wet, some scratched. It didn’t matter.

“Baby.”

Louis hitched as it hit him from absolutely nowhere, Harry’s hands a rough guide that kept him going through it, knew it would be better for him. Louis’ hands scratched at his damp skin, clawed over his nipples, staggering and trembling from his shoulders down, he clutched his collar bones, his neck - anywhere he could blindly reach as he rode out the primal tightening of his groin and let that intense, pleasurable fever cripple his nerves.

He dug his fingernails down hard, blunt and harmless into his skin yet they still broke it, mouth open and soundless as his body began to quiver. But he had no time to recover, no time to let his elbows buckle and fall forward, not yet, not while he was still being impaled and Harry sounded like that.

He wet his lips, needed to speak, “G-good? Alpha?”

Better than good. So beyond good that it was getting as dangerous as Harry’s feared. After forcing himself to accept the short kiss from Louis’ wet lips he threw his head back, neck straining with the iron will it took to not succumb to the images of planting Louis down onto his pulsating knot. “Fuck _Louis_ -,”

Thinking he’d done something wrong Louis grew wary, trying to clear the haze from his mind, arms trembling through the post-orgasm tremors. His release was painted over Harry's stomach.

He squeaked at the shift in Harry’s hands though, thumbs sinking into the crease of flesh there until they hit bone. He may be on top but Louis realised his boyfriend would never be overpowered and that steel grip grew painful, every muscle pulling tight in his chest and Louis clambered for a hold when his back end was lifted up and Harry’s cock erupted beneath.

No sound came from him as Louis was placed down further up, panting and watching Harry’s release shoot over his bottom, thick ribbons hitting his exposed entrance making it flutter close. It seemed to last forever, Louis’ palm laying atop of Harry’s heart where he could feel it’s erratic thumping.

He turned around to see the tension subsiding in his neck, a droplet of sweat running form his temple to his ear just as one ran down the centre of Louis’ back.

His hands were still tight and his hips were starting to lock, but he didn’t know what to do.

He was so caught up in counting each muscle as it relaxed in Harry’s face, that a surprised peep left his mouth when he felt the slab of Harry’s arousal slap against his bottom. It was still frightfully erect but gravity had given way to the weight.

Louis turned back when he heard a rasped chuckle, “I’m never leaving the bed.”

Half relieved he hadn’t knocked some sort of function from the boy and half itching to move, Louis curled over him, his ass raising a little, “Yeah?”

“Fuck everything,” Harry groaned, rolling over fully aware he’d get a flustered little Louis giggling as he plonked down on the cushions next to him, “this is all that matters.”

“I don’t think the others would agree with you.”

He hissed as Louis' thigh brushed his spasming erection, dipping down to kiss his lips, murmuring against them, “Guess they can go find themselves a new Alpha then.”

Enjoying the cold breeze of separation on his skin for the first time all night, he smiled contently, closing his eyes around Harry's attentive motions, brushing the hair from his forehead, kissing him. Grabbing a clean blanket from the other side and dabbing the drying sweat, kissed him again. 

It was the most wonderful ache between his thighs, knowing Harry had finally trust himself, trusted Louis, to let it be. Louis rolled his head to the side just as Harry was muttering about needing to wash these immediately when Louis pulled his right hand, thumb brushing the rose ring. 

The Alpha stared at him, frenzied for a second from the instinctual worry he'd hurt him, but when he looked at those glossy eyes, to the ring and back again, he understood.  

"Love you." Louis was blissed out, happy.

Lifitng himself back up to his level, Louis automatically rolled onto his side to curl up into him by habit. 

He pulled the blanket up to cover him, listened to his ebbing heart beat and enveloped his arms around his slight shoulders, Louis nuzzling a little further so only the blush upon the highest point of his cheek was visible. 

"Love you too, my little Prince." 


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edward is an issue, I agree. Although many of you clearly don't want it solving. All I'm saying is both twins have their demons and I'm a stickler for slow burns so, patience.

If he’d walked in a handful of seconds later, he would’ve missed it. Part of him wishes he had done just that, maybe if he’d just ignored the grumbling in his stomach a bit longer, stretched his toes from out beneath the covers and enjoyed the orgasmic pull in his muscles a little more. But he hadn’t, and he’d gotten grumpy when he saw his boyfriend hadn’t come back within ten minutes of him waking up and wanted to see where was more important to be rather than tucked up snoozing next to him. He was growing needier by the day.

Gemma spotted him first.

“Lou Lou,” She declared it too cheerfully, a point to get Harry to stop speaking.

And he did, peered at him over his rounded shoulders and straightened up instantly, “Angel.”

His smile wasn’t really a smile, it were more a twisted hopefulness pulling at his features. He wished Louis’d walked in a second later too.

“Why…” A yawn interrupted, Louis blinked away the wetness and padded bare foot onto the stone kitchen floor, “Why me?”

Gemma was a picture of regret, looking to her Brother who wasn’t looking at her like she knew he had this coming. There was a blame unspoken and it seemed Harry couldn’t face it.

He collected Louis around the middle as he reached up to the cupboard on his tiptoes, picking out his favourite cereal. Harry took a breath at this point, the warmth from his bare torso bleeding through Louis’ thin top, his muscles solid but kind all around him as he so very lightly squeezed.

“S’not something you will concern yourself with Louis.”

His voice was a drawn out husk. Lazy and slow like his hands, taking away the task Louis was facing of pouring his cereals and milk by slowly turning him and lifting him to sit on the counter as he started emptying the pack into the bowl while he watched.

Louis’ ankles knocked the cabinet handles and he stared at them. “But you said he needs to be kept away from me- _especially_ ,”

“Louis.”

It was soft but firm. He could push it. Louis was always grouchier in the mornings, braver too. “He hates me doesn’t-,”

“Lou no,” Gemma’s voice was cool and lovely, a welcome contrast to her younger siblings, “it’s nothing like that it’s just difficult for him.”

“What is?”

Harry cleared his throat, busying himself with the flap on the cereal packet with a frustrated pinch between his brows. He said nothing although it were clear he maybe should’ve, Gemma leaving enough pause for him as she side eyed him walking over to the refrigerator.

Her head fell to the side, trying for sweet but Louis knew better. “He’s been alone for a long time. Away from the company of any human, surrounded by no one but the Alphas hired to watch over him and his own shadow so it’s difficult for him to adjust-,” Louis jumped at the slam but Gemma closed her eyes, opening them a shade icier, “to living with you.”

True she wished she could slice skin with a glare but she settled for walking up to Louis, squeezing his knee and kissing his cheek, “Nothing for you to worry about.”

Harry barely budged when she smacked his bicep with a stinging sound, a growl Louis’d never heard come from her bubbling somewhere in her throat as she left with a pointed look at her Brother.

Louis swung his legs again, forgetting he couldn’t for a second and pouting when his ankles hit the cabinet.

“Wanna eat in the front lounge?” Harry was holding the bowl in one hand, something that looked much smaller in his ridiculous paws, slotting between Louis’ thighs to press a small kiss to his lips. “Sorry I wasn’t there when you woke, baby.”

In actual fact he’d woken an hour before Louis and had every intention of watching him in the creepiest way a boyfriend could until he woke up with that sticky voice and clingy limbs. But then Gemma had come through with Isaac, a beta from their pack in Quebec who’d been staying for the two nights, and quietly pulled him away to deliver the news.

He got so caught up in it, that the thirty minutes flew.

That wasn’t the biggest issue Louis was bothered about now however. After a delicious evening with Harry of course he wanted them to wake up together and be mushy and pathetically in love until they merged as one whole and the house stunk of their affection, obviously. But now he feels rejection for real. From someone who he wasn’t quite sure should be affecting him so much anyway.

“No,” He shook his head, “no we’ll stay.”

Harry gave over the bowl full of chocolate cereal slowly, Louis cupping either side with a small thank you.

He sighed. Waited for Louis to look back up at him but he never did. “Okay.”

They stayed like that, Harry between his thighs, tall and still. Louis knew whatever the reason behind Edward’s request to stay far away as possible from him wasn’t going to be aired right now. He doubted he would get any version close to the truth even if he pushed his infinite luck with his Alpha. So he stayed quiet, accepted the silence that consumed them with Harry’s wide palms softly scoping up and down his thighs until they rested upon his knees, green eyes watching every repetition of spoon to mouth like it were all he could do; despite it working against his table manners.

But then Harry groaned, seeming to sense something and Louis looked up just in time to catch him roll his eyes and pull back from between his legs as a very boisterous, very loud Roman came striding into the room, “Fuck me Alpha. _Phew_.”

“Roman.” A warning. Definitely a warning. Louis stared with a full mouth and wide eyes.

“Woah, finally let out all that pent up frustration eh?”

Harry was turned away from Louis but the tension in his jaw was obvious, forever sharp. “Beta.”

There was a mischievous twinkle in his eyes as he closed the fridge and shook the smoothie bottle, absolutely beaming with joy as he went to head back out again, looking between the two of them like there was just so much he wanted to say but very much wanted to see his 19th birthday so thought better of it.

He nodded to Louis who only just took up his chewing again, ignoring the continuous length of tense muscle that was Harry nano seconds away from lunging and sighed, “Can you still walk?”

He was off like a rocket through the door and Louis’ face grew red hot with embarrassment. With wide eyes he gawked at Harry, spoon hovering mid air with chocolate milk dripping from it like ticking seconds as Roman’s cackle was buttering another layer to his shock.

“Pheromones,” Harry felt like he should explain, waving a hand like it was nothing, “you can scent them.”

Louis was, to say the least, appalled.

The idea that any one of this lot could walk into the room where they’d had intercourse or any sort of sexual intimacy hours after and be able to pick up on an actual scent that tells them that they have indeed engaged in said intercourse or some sort of sexual intimacy that was supposed to remain intimate absolutely rocked him.

“ _You can do that?_ ”

“What?”

“Smell sex.”

Harry shrugged, looped two fingers through a mug that was left on the island counter, “Yeah it’s like a sweet musk, difficult to describe but you know,” He took a sip and Louis wanted to throw a chocolate hoop at him because no he _did not_ , “intense.”

 

*

 

The day passed as leisurely as it could with the absence of both Alphas. Harry had left around midday with Isaac to meet with Olson who was the leader to his pack over in Quebec, the announcement that he’d be gone until the following morning cast a notably nervous spell over the house but as it were unavoidable it was left - unknown to Louis - under strict instruction that Louis would be sleeping with Roman; being the only beta with whom he is familiar enough with and who Harry could rely on fully to comfort him if the need arose.

The bedroom remained out of bounds.

Louis had felt very much a bystander to the events following the breakfast fiasco and had gotten the feeling he shouldn’t pry or request any measly snippet of an explanation as to what was going on. The constant frustrated scowl on his partner’s face was a good indicator of this. The hushed whispers just out of shot, the closing of the twins’ bedroom door the second anyone came onto the hallway, everything was beyond a joke - beyond discreet. Edward being sealed from society meant bad things only. Something was very wrong and Louis suspected it may surmount any issue the Alpha has with him.

“You want everything down there?”

Louis was flicking through an old book he’d taken up reading a couple of days ago, the words looked like they’d been produced by a typewriter and the pages ere dogeared and blanched but it added to the charm of it. He paused when he heard the voices just outside the door, tipped his head back to catch what he could of the conversation.

“Uh, yeah,” Harry was vague, always so distracted recently, “just um, put them with the rest.”

Slowly, Louis bookmarked the page with his thumb and leaned over the side of the chair in an almost painful position just so he could nosy at the scene. Elijah’s hands slipped around the box and Louis’ heart leapt but Harry was there in a beat, “Got it,” He nodded, allowing the beta to actually let go and let out a breath, “it’s alright, I got it.”

They had been in the process of removing Louis’ clothing from the twins’ bedroom for half an hour. It seems that one couldn’t simply just walk in there without being primed beforehand or being explicitly careful about it, hence why the removal took so long. Unless you were Harry. He’d been in and out of there with no issues.

There was a couple of workmen - people Harry had vetted several times over to make sure they had no trace back to their family, milling out and around the house all day. Usually one or both twins would be the ones overseeing all construction works or renovations but he was entirely too busy at present with other matters for him to be manning the house.

Evening came around slowly and he’d felt like he’d been walking around under a spotlight for a full twelve hours straight.

As much as the pack had tried to act like it were their choice to be so attentive and coincidentally all arrive back home around the same hour of two o’clock in the afternoon and want to crowd around Louis in the back lounge _just because_ \- Louis wasn’t stupid.

They were there because Harry had probably threatened their ability to breathe if they refused.

He hadn’t had to lift a finger since.

_“Drink, Louis?”_

_“Hey dewdrop do you need anything… hungry?”_

_“I feel like a movie. Shall we put on a movie?”_

_“I’ll grab more blankets.”_

_“Comfortable Louis?”_

_“Yeah let’s stay in here and watch cheesy Tarentino films back to back.”_

_“Shall we order in?”_

_“Sure you don’t need anything Lou.”_

_“Lou-Lou.”_

_“Lou.”_

_“Louis.”_

_“Louis.”_

_“Louis.”_

Half way through the third film he fell asleep. He doesn’t remember precisely how or why he ended up nestled up to the beta, but he was tucked up and dosing anyway, Niall coaxing him into his equally small frame yet acting as a shield to him still. Unbeknown to Louis he petted his fringe well past him falling victim to the slumber, fingers idly playing with his hair as his and the other’s face lit up a cold blue from the television’s glare.

 

*

 

The next day was Sunday. And that meant most of the pack were back with their families. Which was a sore subject of sorts - what with the state of the Styles bloodline at present. But Gemma quashed their hesitation and hurried them away, telling them to stop being so stupid. Family is the most important thing in the world and even though half of hers was broken, the pack were family too.

Louis stretched out on the lounger in the back room. He’d gotten awfully bored with the landscape of the front and so relocated. The upholstery wasn’t much different in here though, less cozy for sure but definitely comfortable with oversized armchairs and long couches.

There was a notable difference between the Styles’ residence and this, their pack house.

Back at the manor it was all long lines of dedicated precision, glittering chandeliers and light marble decor, brocade prints offset with vintage furnishings. And that was just the lobby. Despite them calling it their home there was something less homely about it and more showy, especially now he’d been introduced to this haven of patchwork throws, squidgy cushioned couches and dark real wood flooring and roaring wood fires. Maybe it was because they were surrounded by snow, nestled in a desolate location between the peaks, fifteen minute car ride from any sign of fellow civilisation that he felt constantly tucked away and warm.

It wasn’t until well past four in the afternoon that something remotely interesting happened for him. Harry had text him and apologised for his late arrival, said he’d gotten caught up with a few things - what’s new - and will be back by early evening.

So that was that. It were only Gemma left in the house with him and after they’d eaten some lunch he’d helped her out with building the wooden fence up against the edge of the lake. She was confiding her earliest memory of her childhood, something vague she’d said; although the transitions were patchy the images were clear. It was of the twins and her, an early Summer morning, they were five or so at the time which made her seven or so, she said Harry had wanted to play with Edward but Edward wanting to go swimming in the lake instead. Of course he couldn’t, because he was only just learning but she said he did it anyway, out of spite to his Brother, just so he didn’t have to play with him.

Louis was mortified, asking her why she was laughing at what is sounding to be an unfortunate near-death memory over a pleasant one.

“I don’t know,” She’d said, a soft smile giving way every so often the laugh she was trying to contain.

Her hair kept falling past her beanie and her nose was turning a bit pink but she was less affected by the cold than he, regardless. Of course she reassured him no harm had come to Edward, he was splashing around in the shallow end of the lake and their parents were going insane, running down the embankment screaming at them. Harry had started crying and hit Edward when she dove in and got him out, but rather than crying or shivering from the realty he could’ve drowned, he just begun laughing. He giggled until it became infectious and all three of them were hysterical while their parents stood by just watching. That sound had stayed with her ever since.

She sanded down the wood and shook her head, looking up at him with eyes he swore were drier before, “Think it just about sums them up.”

About an hour later she retired somewhere upstairs and he were left to his own devices. Which once more, as he was forbidden to go wandering around the grounds by himself or anywhere on the second floor, meant curling up in front of the fire with a book.

When he first heard it, he didn’t think much of it. Thought it were Gemma knocking about in the kitchen, probably getting some toast or something; her addiction marmalade had passed the point of cute to worrying.

But the second time, the sound was accompanied with the disturbing clatter of pans, a handful of what sounded like utensils falling to the floor. Louis sat up ears pricking like he’d seen his wolfish company do so many times before, and pinned his eyes on the door.

He waited, book hung over his thigh loosely, the pages falling forward as he leant to the side.

There was shuffling, but nothing to be alarmed by. It actually sounded like the person was picking up the utensils, Gemma wasn’t a klutz, not like Niall. Or her Brother’s.

Which was a harrowing thought.

The possibility that he was right there on the other side of that door made Louis’ adrenaline flicker. He waited for anything else, any sign of movement specifically closer to that door but nothing. Yet he still stared, fingertips scratching idly at the worn thread of the sofa arm.

He was being silly. He was driving himself insane with all this nonsense he’s concocted over the past couple of days as to what was wrong with Edward. Picturing him half transformed, half beast - half man, some malfunction that was brought on by stress. The stress he’d caused. Or perhaps he was bloodthirsty. Maybe he’d transformed fully and was up there chained with bindings stronger than those Harry’d equipped himself with for London which is why Harry was going in and out all the time, most likely with food to dampen his appetite as he were the only one who could even come close to handling him in that state.

Making an unattractive sound he brushed the thoughts to the side, tucking his legs back underneath himself, “Jesus get a grip.”

He laughed, blinking back down at the book. He flattened out the page he’d thumbed open and tried to get back to reading.

But it was no use. He kept rereading the same line over and over again.

Clearing his throat, he flapped the book, sighed. Ran his index finger down to the line he were on, focused. Read.

He got to the end of the page and realised he wouldn’t be able to recall a single detail.

Chewing the inside of his cheek he bookmarked and slammed the book shut, huffing as he threw it down next to him. This nervousness inside him was going to kill him, one day. He had so many fears brewing he felt were a wrong turn away from becoming reality. If it wasn’t the constant doubting of whether he’d be able to keep up with Harry’s world he as worried about being good enough on a personal level - domestically, sexually. Now their parents have turned everything on its head and they’re all on the flip side of what was a pretty dark reality already. They managed to make something sinister, deadly. Nothing was certain, all trust was gone, torn.

And now, now he’s got the twin to worry about.

He pulled up from hiding his face in his hands at the sound of rumbling footsteps above him. He arched his neck back, looking to the ceiling like it would give him answers. But those footsteps - if he were correct were coming from the far left side of the second floor which meant - Gemma.

Louis was up in a flash. If she was upstairs - no, _running_ downstairs that meant she wasn’t the one making the noise.

“Fuck.” His hands felt numb, a little tingly at his sides as he did nothing but stare at the door as if he expected it to come to life. “Fuck.”

Another bang, louder. Louis flinched, stepped back, his legs knocking the table.

Gemma was in the kitchen now because he heard her shout something and it echoed, but she said no more because she couldn’t, her shouts were now shrieks and were being muffled. Louis’ heart palpated a sickening rhythm behind his ribs.

“Oh my- ,” His fingers were trembling, his vision blackening at the sides a little most probably from the pressure.

Her next cry felt like a knife to his throat, he hitched a breath, darted across the room in a flash and swung the door open.

“ _Gem-_ ,” His socked feet skidded on the stone, “what-,”

Grappling the counter he couldn’t believe his eyes.

She was bound alright, a hand covering her mouth, clamping her nostrils shut so she couldn’t breathe. Her hands were behind her back. Her nose was bleeding. She looked at Louis with a desperation, whether it were a plea to back off or run he didn’t know, didn’t care. He was no match but he wasn’t going to leave her, he scanned the counter top for something, anything. A weapon.

“Don’t even think about it.” Ansel spoke. Voice just as wickedly shrewd as before.

“L-let her go,” Louis’ voice wasn’t so sure.

Gemma made some sort of noise, squeezed her eyes shut. A tear escaped as she struggled against his cincture.

“Please- Ansel, let her go,” Louis pointed a hand towards her, wished he hadn’t. He was shaking like a crack addict.

He was grinning and Louis wished he were of fuller stature, for the first time he wished to have even a touch of wolf genes to dare go over there and scratch that smug look right off of his face. A circling formation began instead, Louis hovering around a safe circumference as he tried to think on his feet. Ansel had released her nose and she heaved for air, slender hands gripping his forearm that clamped around her chest. The pain she felt could be heard and Louis was becoming more and more helpless by the second.

“You can tell your Brothers,” He spoke to her as if she were the expendable sibling, “that this is the first warning, a taster of how easy it would be,” He brushed some hair behind her ear, “for me to take whatever I want.”

He was growing desperate, confused. Why was he here? Harry had told him all about him and how he was alway an outcast but why was he wanting to hurt them? He was no match. And his best hope was in the room; he’d left his phone on the couch. If he moved for it now Ansel would strike.

“ _Why-_ ,” She could barely breathe never mind speak, every swallow going down like sawdust.

“This is your first and final warning. Back down and no one will get hurt.” Ansel reiterated, lacing fingers along the underside of her jaw to force her head up. “Mummy and Daddy say hi.”

Louis was shivering. Actually shivering. Cold from the bone out despite there being dampness in the centre of his palms, under his arms, beneath his fringe. He was pale and powerless against the horror he stood before; Ansel licked his lips before running his tongue across his teeth, staring at her unmarked neck, eyes cast by a darkness that made black look cheery.

“ _No-_ ,” He started, a squeak of a voice, a sob nestled between that pitiful plea with an outstretched hand.

A silent movement just beyond Ansel got Louis falling back. Way back.

He clapped both hands over his mouth, tears already bursting at the rims when Ansel’s body twitched once, muscles locking as his cage from Gemma unlocked and she slipped away, confused at first, scrambling for purchase on the floor, until she heard the sound that belonged to no other.

“Suppose you’re the Ansel everyone spoke of.”

Edward.

He was two or so inches taller than him, yet Edward’s grip was lethal. The veins were bulging in his neck, his arteries desperate to get the blood pumping that Edward’s thick fingers were blocking.

Louis had sunk to the floor, desperately pulling Gemma next to the cupboard with him. She was panting, gasping, horrified. But the closing of her eyes as she bundled next to Louis, an arm shakily in front of him as a last resort precaution, meant she knew they were safe. She wouldn’t dare take her eyes off a mark otherwise.

“Pleasure,” Edward’s grip was cruel, Louis had known it’s wrath, but this wasn’t like that. This was a force he thought only Harry would be able to propel. This was a side to Edward that was reserved for when it’s needed. “I’d introduce myself but,” Ansel’s eyes were bloodshot, his mouth slack, fingers clawing at Edward’s solid fist around his neck, “reckon you know who I am already.”

Edward moved then, repositioning closer behind him for a brief second - he was naked from the hips up; some low slung black sweatpants. Louis could hear his Sister’s breath, ragged and desperate right there beside him. She was looking at Edward too now, the hand that was guarding him now clutching his ankle, a soft squeeze.

“ _L_ …”

He turned his head, but not his eyes. Transfixed on the two Alphas.

“ _Lou_ …”

She was trying to tell him something but he wasn’t listening. No he was, but he just couldn’t focus. Ansel’s face was beet red and there was saliva dripping from his open mouth, frozen, as if Edward’s palm had injected venom and he were paralysed.

Louis’ palms slapped to the ground when Edward brought up a leg and swiftly kicked his knee out of joint.

There was a scream somewhere in the back of his throat but it just wasn’t coming to the surface. Even if it did, the shrill cry that came from the other Alpha just then would’ve drowned it out tenfold Pain - chilling, _bone-_ crushing pain. He deserved every morsel but Louis couldn’t help but feel absolutely petrified for him.

Edward’s hair was heavily mussed, bags heavy under his eyes. He looked like he’d been at war with something and hadn’t weathered himself with sleep for a long, long time.

He bends over and by default Louis tucks his knees in closer, “I don’t give warnings.” His voice was just a growl, words forming around the guttural vibration, “Your luck timed out the second you left our pack.”

The moment his hand alighted from his neck, both cupped either side of his head.

“L-look-,” her voice sounded again, Louis’ eyes blurred from the tears, still incapable of looking away, “don’t _look_ -,”

Before her words settled, Ansel’s head was turned with swift, brutal force, his neck snapping.

The blood drained from Louis’ face, Gemma sobbed. “ _No_ …”

Ansel’s body flopped to the ground, his head smacking the stone. Lifeless. The stream of saliva overflowed his swollen lips and pooled next to his face.

“Phone.” Edward was in front of him, his voice wasn’t his own. Louis couldn’t look up. Didn’t dare. He crouched and Louis squeezed his eyes shut, rolled his lips in. “Gemma.”

There was some shuffling. His nerve crackled to a point of near surrender Louis couldn’t open his eyes to see Edward tend to his sister, placing the slightest of touches to her bruised neck, tipping her chin. She was okay, he knew that. She wasn’t weak just severely shaken.

“Phone.” He repeated.

Eventually Louis mustered the courage to face the scene.

Edward was up and Gemma had gone. Not far mind, she was sat a bar stool shivering and staring at the lump of a body Louis was doing everything to avoid. 

Murderer. 

Edward had just taken someone's life. 

“It’s me,” Edward was speaking through the receiver, “get here, now.”

No more was said. He deposited the phone on the side, encasing Gemma between his arms which he leant into and kissed her cheek. It was unclear what was being said but she was sobbing softly, the presence of her Brother sort of bringing it all to a point. Louis pulled out a chair as quietly as he could as she clung onto him, fingernails digging into his back as he rocked her gently, shushing her dismay.

The phone rang to life on the side, it was an unknown number but it was ignored.

“Go.” Edward prompted her, “Go clean up.”

She looked to Louis immediately, seeming to regret it when she looked back to her Brother. Louis wanted to scream at her, beg her to take him with her but she was too vacant to register any distress signals that weren't her own, turning when Edward sighed.

But he shook his head, visibly tense, “It’s fine, go.”

Her departure meant nearly two days worth of weighing up horrific possibilities had come to this point in time in it’s reveal. Edward remained forward facing to the island, almost as if she hadn’t left at all. He hadn’t yet acknowledged Louis.

He definitely wasn’t transformed, still very much human. His body, that was kindly offered to him in the cold light of day was visibly unscathed and there seemed to be no sign of physical struggle whatsoever. So that meant no bindings, no restraint needed.

So _why_ did he have to be kept under lock and key?

Louis shifted in his seat, hating that it creaked and scorched the silence.

And why were he the one to be specifically kept out of reach?

“Are you,” When he spoke Louis gripped the counter, throughly and genuinely shocked, “okay?”

Edward still wasn’t looking at him though.

Louis begun what he hoped was coming off as a nod, eyes dropping to the bulk of Edward’s arms, still leaning on the side. Physically he was fine, but it was clear something akin to torture had occurred up in that room. The kind that places Edward in a battle with himself, emotionally draining yet physically wearing. His eyes, now he could see them properly from the light tinkering through the blinds, were pure black. What should be grey was gone, lost to the physical representation of his mental state.

“Y-yeah,” Anything he said wouldn’t feel like the correct response. Not right now.

Edward stood up, raked a hand though his hair. It seemed the effort of even staying within touching distance of Louis was grating on him. Louis’ brows twitched inwards as Edward’s nostrils flared and he took a deep breath in and an even longer breath out.

“What does this mean, a-alpha?” Maybe conversation would do the trick.

Whatever it was that was making Edward’s mind flip and his inner wolf surface so violently in his eyes, he could diffuse it with appropriate talk.

But then Edward looked at him.

And Louis’ stomach fell through his arse.

“It means we’re one kill up on our parents, kitten.” He was even more crucifying like this, eyes unreadable now they looked like a permeant plateau of menace, “and we get our competitive streak from them.”

Never had something been said more on the outskirts of explanation than that yet the message was received loud and clear, Louis’ hairs rising with Edward’s actions as he now moved, licking his lips. He was feral, suddenly that wild animal that resides inside half of his conscience, prowling round the island to his position. He was on a pedestal right where Edward wanted him, right where he needed him and it’s always sort of felt that way.

Time and time again, he’d been warned that Edward was the one to be able to mask his intentions. The art of deception came easy to him. But now he were inches away, stood still at Louis’ height even though the boy was seated upon a high stool he felt like he’d never seen a gaze more honest.

“Means we’re going to have to up the protection on you, little one.”

His voice was a purr.

Louis gripped his seat, leaning back as Edward closed in, closing his eyes. There was a rich musk around him, something thicker than he’d smelt on Harry. He opened them again and Louis gasped, never accustomed to their majestic danger.

“I’m sorry,” Louis softly let his apology slip, for what, he wasn’t sure.

Neither was Edward, “Kitten?”

“For everything,” As always, “you’re going through so m-much I just- I’m a burden, I-,”

“You’re not the easiest,” Edward cut him off, jaw tight, eyes locking him in, “to live with.”

Louis hung his head, breath getting caught as Edward grabbed the stool legs and tipped him back enough to make Louis scramble for a hold which was unfortunately - his shoulders.

“You drive me insane.” He wasn’t being careful anymore, something had been shed from him that left what was only Edward, “ and that’s a road I’m familiar with.”

Louis doesn’t even try to break free or in anyway push him off. He’s seeing him before him, how he has no issue lifting him like this, strangling the life out of someone like that, _killing_ him as if he were nothing but toothpick. He respects his strength. His skin was hot, beyond warm beneath his fingertips, “Y-you hate me.”

Edward grows furious, so out of character, “ _Hate?_ ”

Offended by Louis' accusation a rumble emits from his sternum as he tips Louis further yet only follows him with a bend in his torso, “How the fuck can I hate something that does this to me.”

Louis’ eyes widen.

“You are simply,” He leans in so close Louis can scent everything he has on Harry and more, something else, something belonging only to him, lips grazing his jaw, “the most frustrating…” When blunt teeth nip his jaw and their tipping angle reaches a point where Edward’s hips are locked between Louis, so far that he’s practically just holding Louis up now, he feels it. Thick, and undeniably hard.


End file.
